So, walking to the bus stop today, I found my Whiskers in the ditch. He'd apparently been hit by a vehicle...
He was a two-year old cat, slim, black-and-white patterened, with an incredibly long tail. He was a funny little guy, always wanting you to scratch in a different area, then a different area still when you got there; he'd brush you with his tail and weave in between your legs as you went to feed him. He certainly isn't the first to dissapear and die on the farm, but the first time I'd seen any of them dead, so I’m a little taken back. Ah well, I guess I’ll have to find a place in the gardens to bury him. He’ll be missed, by myself and his feline family. May his spirit carry on.
