We buried Curry yesterday afternoon under a blue lilac tree.

His big bloated belly had disappeared as well as the lump on his side, and we had dared to hope that Evelyne, who was providing him with long distance healing, had achieved the impossible.

He was often out taking a walk, and then he was back. He was eating so little. His appetite was no longer there but he spent hours looking at his plate without understanding why Geoff had put things on it that he could no longer swallow. So Geoff tried other foods, those he had liked before. But all that meant nothing to him anymore.

 He had become very thin but he had kept his shiny coat and his expressive eyes until the end.

He was incontinent the last few days and we suspected he was going to leave us soon, but he purred as soon as he was on our knees so we had chosen to keep him with us.

Curry was a talker with always lots of things to say and the night before last he told us that he had had enough. We understood, we got him in his basket near the fireplace and we petted him. He no longer spoke; everything had been said. Very early the next morning, well before we got up, he was gone…

 No more lobby to go through to get outside now, he who for years panicked as soon as he found himself between these two closed doors, waiting for one of them to open, a time always too long. A kind of scary claustrophobia like some people can get in an elevator. Well lately, he seemed to have succeeded in managing his terror quite well. Did he understand that ultimately there was nothing to fear?

He will no longer lie on Geoff’s computer keyboard.

He will no longer eat the pretty little tits from the balcony.

He will no longer chase Binie who would always take refuge high in a tree and then cry for hours because she was never sure how to come down.

 The colchicums are coming out into the ditches, the almond and apricot trees are delighting us despite the unending rainfall… And life goes on.