We got Whitby over ten years ago from a friend when she was just 6 weeks old. I chose her from the litter because she crawled into the crook of my neck and immediately fell asleep, so therefore impossible to give back! Her mother was a cat called 'Cat' who had an hilarious Hitler moustache.
Whitby was a bugger of a kitten, climbing the Christmas tree and pulling it over wasn't her finest moment. Even worse was the time she attacked the mister and ended up hanging by her claws from his Adam's apple. He wasn't impressed. Whitby never really liked men much for reasons we couldn't fathom, and she hated other cats even more. In fact I'm utterly convinced that she never imagined for a minute that she WAS a cat. I'm convinced she thought herself human. A gay human. She loved me so much. She would come hither to the slightest sound I made and liked nothing better than cuddling up with me of an evening and being scratched under her collar and having her cheeks stroked. Back when she was a kitten I worked shifts and every other week we used to cosy up on the sofa together in the afternoon and watch Magnum PI. She was a big fan. Perhaps the tash reminded her of her mum...
Whitby had awesome comedy timing. Not too long ago we spent spent hours searching for her without success. I was devastated as I knew she wouldn't leave me without there being a sinister reason for it. We were in the spare room getting ready for bed when I turned to the mister and said "do you think that's it? Do you think we've lost her for good?" He replied, "Yeah, I'm sorry, but I reckon so" There was a beat, we both sighed, and then *scratch scratch scratch* "What was THAT?!" * more scratching* "Bloody hell, she's in that drawer!". Turns out she'd somehow managed to get herself into the mister's desk drawer and must have been sleeping in there for the best part of a day! Daft mare. The timing of the appearance though made me chuckle for days. She was all 'what's wrong with you idiots? Can't a girl catch some zeds in the privacy of desk drawer now? Sheesh...'
I'll really really miss her. More than I even imaged I would. It's been such a long relationship. We've never lived in this house without her. In fact my toddler refers to the spare room as Whitby's bedroom, and it was really. Whitby utterly loathed the vets and it was a horrible ordeal for her ever having to visit. In fact she was once kept in there for observation purposes and a few hours after we'd left her the vet called back demanding that we collect her and observe her at home as she'd turned into a demon, upsetting the other animals and so vicious the staff couldn't get near her. My little Whitby cat! I would never have believed she had it in her! We had to stop using a cattery when we went on holiday in the past few years too as she would go on hunger strike every time. Luckily we had neighbours who would simply visit the house to care for her. I'm glad it was "her bedroom" where she took her final breath, safe warm and surrounded by her domain. Just like a little old lady who steadfastly refuses to die in hospital. She had it her way.
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