On the 22nd October, maybe in 1994, something unusual happened on my birthday.
Outside the French-windows, on the other side of the glass stood a small black cat, no more than 8 months old. On the inside, a very cross dog barked. And barked. Despite the protests of the family dog (Lucy), the cat moved in and stayed with us for over 13 years. She chose us. Over time, Lucy and the cat became (almost) the best of friends. Jane, my mum, called her 'Bonnie' short for 'Ebony' but for some reason, the name didn't stick that well, and she was usually referred to as the cat. Maybe THE cat. This cat was the boss! Despite being head-strong, she was also one of the friendliest cats I had ever known, with a constant purr and such a placid 'oh if I must' personality. Today, the cat said goodbye to this life, and headed home to the great tuna bowl in the sky... Goodbye Bonnie, the cat with no name. We'll miss you...
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