|George, king of the cobbles|
At twenty past six this morning my cat George, the king of the cobbles, after an illness lasting 3 weeks, made his way to that great cattery in the sky .
His ailment started as a common cold, but somewhere along the line he had a stroke, and his body began to close down.
What a magnificent creature he was, who mixed the ferocity of his territorial pride with a love as tender as Romeo had for Juliet.
I was his Juliet, which is a very modern take on what was a story created by Shakespeare founded on heterosexuality. .
To add to the confusion, my wife Lynne sat up with him all last night. God bless you George.
If only more loved as passionately as you the world would be a much better place.
I remember that I asked a man I loved, Walter, my first wife’s father, if he was proud of the farm he had built up from a smallholding. “No”, he replied. “This isn’t mine. I’m just taking care of it while I’m here on earth”
Well George was doing the same with the cobbles.
And George, you will never walk alone.
At the end of the road there’s a golden sky.
My beautiful boy, these past few days have been troublesome, like a storm.
But don’t be afraid of the dark
I will be with you forever.
Forever, my sweetheart.