At the end of the last blog I told you the sad news that Bubbles, our beautiful ginger and white tom cat, was terminally ill and we didn’t know how long he had left with us.
On the morning of Tuesday 29th he passed peacefully away in front of the fire snuggled up in a box, what cat doesn’t love a box.
He has left a huge hole in our lives.
How did he get his name? I hear you ask. Well when we first got him as a very small kitten I thought he was a girl and called him Bubbles. 6 months later when I realised my mistake it was too late the name had stuck but it did get shortened to Bubs much of the time.
Strangely enough he was the cat we weren’t going to bring with us on the boat, but he turned out to be the one that loved the cruising, and visiting new places the most. And he loved people.
He came with us because he was impossible to re-home (I wouldn’t have let him go to just anyone). And why was he hard to place? because he was a nasty little bugger at the time and would scratch anyone without provocation. My sister named him El Diablo cat.
But after a less than perfect start to his new life on the boat he changed completely, and couldn’t get enough attention from his adoring public.
As we travelled he would find weird and wonderful places to sleep, on a number of occasions I thought he had managed to get off the boat before we set off because I couldn’t find him, then I would spot him behind the TV, or in the storage rack in the bathroom.
But once we stopped and moored up he really came into his own, he would jump off and go exploring. If we moored near other boats I would have to go and have a word with their crew, as Bubbles always wanted to visit and say hello. Most took it in good humour. If we ever lost him he would be found fast asleep on someone else boat, even if they had a dog on some occasions.
Gongoozlers walking the towpath would be greeted as if they were old friends, people sat on benches minding their own business would soon have a cat for company, and beware anyone having a picnic or BBQ, he would try and pinch their food, but everybody loved him he was so friendly.
But he never learnt to purr.
His happiest place at night was on the Captains lap, and in the morning he would jump on the bed for a fuss with me.
Visitors to the boat were welcomed warmly, and he would choose a lap and make himself comfy on whilst we chatted, but 9 times out of 10 he would return to the Captain after a time.
My happiest memories are the times he would be waiting to greet us after we had been to the pub. I would call his name as we approached the boat and then listen, and sure enough we would hear ‘ma ow ma ow ma ow’ as he trotted to meet us. We used to have wonderful conversations with him as we walked. This continued in the wharf and he would be there to greet me when I got home from work.
Also in the wharf he loved to visit our next door neighbour Jenny and spend part of the evening sleeping on her bed. I am happy to say he visited her a couple of days before he died, to say goodbye I believe.
So run free over the rainbow bridge Bubbles you will be missed by many people.