As a young cat, Whiskers was very nervous and untrusting of people and only friendly with members of our family, then only when it suited her (as is the way of cat's). In the summer months she would disappear for up to a week at a time. Just as we thought something bad must have befallen her, she would turn up at the door very hungry and very tired.
During the last two years, she never ventured further than the back garden and would keep me company as I gardened. On sunny days she would sleep for hours in her favourite corner of the garden.
In old age she loved her home comforts and would purr contentedly when with the family and sat on her favourite seat.
It is easy to see why she was given the name "Whiskers". Even as a kitten she had very long whiskers.
Little Rascal loved Whiskers and I had to gently give her the sad news. She was inconsolable and sobbed her heart out.
She put a jar of flowers on Whiskers grave and cuts fresh flowers from the garden to keep it looking nice.
Goodbye little friend.