
Big sigh. Friday, the day after my stinking birthday, Patsy had to be put down due to age-induced illnesses. Cry. Sure she was completely demented and drove me insane but that’s the game! We pretend we don’t like each other but secretly I carry around pictures of her, and she shadows me from room to room. Not to mention she is the namesake of this blog…
The things I miss already:
Patsy running out to greet me (read: demand feeding) at the sound of my car in the street, or my footsteps up the street.
Squeeze-hugging Patsy until she clawed my neck.
The sight of Patsy controlling dogs by sticking her claw in their nose then casually looking away as if not to notice.
Patsy talking back to me.
Patsy pissing only in plug holes (ok except for the two pay-backs in my studio).
Patsy jumping vertically 3 feet in the air every time my new toaster ejected the toast (admittedly violently).
Patsy.
Things I won’t miss:
Patsy trying to kill me by wrapping herself around my legs and screaming feed me when I’m trying to make my morning coffee.
Finding out only a year ago that Patsy drinks my cups of tea and glasses of water when I’m not looking – eeuuuw.
All my black clothes (ie all my clothes) having a slight angora finish due to all surfaces in the house being coated in Patsy fur, and Patsy’s favourite place to sit being anywhere my clothes are.
Patsy hiding up the chimney when I need to leave the house, then setting the alarm off when I’ve arrived wherever I was going.
Generally feeling like a slave to a lump of fur.
A life in pictures:
Not only was Patsy pretty, she was very well read.

She loved to shop but found it very tiring.

Patsy considered herself a hunter, despite never moving past the stare-and-wiggle-your-arse position:

When communing with nature, Patsy became calm and wise; at one with the force.

Patsy had always fancied herself as a Warhol silkscreen
She never quite accepted the line from the modeling agency that the birthmark on her nose would prevent her making it.

Had Patsy been a little easier to get along with, I may have successfully married her off to Jen’s unfeasibly handsome cat Ted:

Goodbye Patsy, sob.
