I generally avoid reading this thread, because I just find it too hard to read. Constant tales of grief.
Last friday we lost our cat. He fell into the not completely drained pond and didn't make it out. He didn't drown, he was obviously trying to swim and climb onto a football that had fallen in. I found him, stiff, in a swimming position, ears and head up. No sign of trauma which is a slight consolation.
I'm heartbroken. I've lost a lot of pets over the years but two cat have really occupied a special place for me.
Sinbad was my reliable companion. Always there to see me, in later months he's become obsessive with saying goodnight to me before I go to sleep, with sitting next to me in the evenings (claws came out to remind me if I ignored me and didn't put a chair next to mine so he could sit next to me).
He's been the most intelligent and unusual cat I've come across. When we lived on a boat he would go in the river to swim after and catch ducks, swim to the bank in times of flood. When we moved into a house he was exasperated by these new things (doors), watched us going through the doors then went over to one, stood on his hind legs and tried to turn the door handle.
