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 A tribute to Blacken
Spaz has words about her niece, Blacken, who was killed in a rabbit
snare one year ago this month (August).
Blacken lived with us for just a year, don't ask me why Slof called
her Blacken - she was completely white, with yellow eyes - Slof
said she looked like a demon, but a cute one!
When she first arrived she was but a ball of white fluff who could
not keep clean, we all laughed when Slof bathed her, but Blacken
never minded. When she meowed, she did it lopsided and spent long
hours on Slof's shoulder, licking and sucking the skin. She never
grew out of that all the time we knew her.
Stripe tried to bully her like she does me, but Blacken just gave
as good as she got - one of her favourite tricks was to lie in
wait for Stripe to walk past and jump onto her back - I enjoyed
seeing Stripe looking flustered.
We all go out at night so we can victimise mice, and Slof used
to say she glowed in the dark - she was very white.
When she didn't return after two days we all got really worried
- Slof went out with the rifle one day for some target practice
(tins, not animals - Slof never shoots living things) - it's all
countryside beyond our garden - and found her lying in some brambles,
all tangled up - Slof said 'Is that Blacken?' and it was. But
when she moved, horror of horrors, she had no hind legs - I'm
finding this difficult to write - she had torn herself out of
the trap - she never liked feeling tangled - and tried to drag
herself home - she was some way from the snare, which we never
found.
Slof rushed her to the vet, hammering on the door. There was,
unfortunately, no way to save her - how she had survived so long
with such horrendous injuries is testament to her great strength
and will to get home. She died purring in Slof's arms - she was
so glad to see us again.
Even though it was a year ago, we still miss her - Slof still
sleeps badly and Blacken haunts Slof in dreams constantly. We
wrote this because no-one else understands how this feels - Slof
could show the Egyptians how to worship cats! We feel you guys
would understand Slof's distress.
We wrote this as a tribute to a cat who crammed many years of
life into one - she rests under her favourite tree, a big, old
hawthorn called Yggddrazzil, where she used to climb.
We will never forget the little white demon with the yellow eyes
in a cute face, and the pleasure her presence brought us.
Mogwai's Mafia.
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