Mr Tiberius – a heartfelt eulogy
When Mr Sarek sadly grew ill and passed away, the team was down to two – the mighty Khan and the lissome and lovely Ezri. Three has always been a magic number since the mystical return of Tuvok, so with that in mind we contacted the same farm that Ezri had come from when we learned that a stray mother had had some black-and-white kittens, and they needed homes … and in came Mr Tiberius!
We estimated his birthday to be Hastings Day (14th October) and when he came to us in Spring 2015 he was a young, strong little cat. We made him a home in the small bedroom, where he was straight up the canvas wardrobes every night to bed, and brought smiles each morning when we passed the room to get coffee from the kitchen, and an audible ‘ka-THOOM!’ let us know he was ready for ‘oot and aboot’ in the house. Once outdoors he loved it, and although Ezri gave him very short shrift on the play-and-chase front, Khan was more than ready and the two of them would play-fight every day, which was terrifying to the untutored eye, but was really an all-boys ballet of strength and physical control.
When Khan was recovering from the now-infamous Attack of the Dirty Dog episode, Ty was restrained and calm, showing understanding beyond his years once Khan settled into his post-injury period, when he was game but not as able.
Khan headed for the great meadow in the Spring of 2016, and help was sought from Romania once it was clear that Ty was gripped with ennui after Khan’s death. In came Jadzia and for a while it was fun, frolics and much biting-of-the-legs (gently though) in the hall, up the wardrobes, across the garden and under the beds – a heavenly sight despite the squeals and yelps that were the soundtrack of such fun.
This paragraph is hard to write, and will be brief. We went to Croatia in October 2016, so for us (we were kept kindly in ignorance of events) Ty was still alive until Saturday 29th October … but in truth he was gone, another victim of the fucking ghastly road on the Wednesday morning before. We hate this road, and just want to get away.
A kinder, gentler, more playful and friendly boy there never was and in the afterlife of cats (there is no human afterlife, the universe is not so stupid as to allow one, but there is for cats) it must be like the gunfight at the OK Corral every sunny day when Tuvok, Sarek, Khan and Tiberius ride into town … go get ’em, boys!
It isn’t hard to write, but it’s hard to write well. As I ease towards my second birthday (Hastings Day) I can feel the voice within me wanting to speak, so I shall let it …
Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me
‘Cos I’m so goshdarned handsome and I ain’t got no fleas (hyuk-hyuk etc.)
Fiteum! Biteum! Chaseum! Argh! Biff! Smack! Jingle! Big fight in the red bedroom this morning, with the usual appreciative cries from the man and woman, ‘Oi! Stop! Let him/her go’ – much fun, and a good breakfast to follow …
My new box. I was not quick enough to claim it before SHE came in …
Feelin’ better – woh yeah!
Some relief was gained this morning when my persistent scratching with a mighty back paw (hem-hem) finally popped my abcess (yuk! ptooie!) – this and the antibiotics obtained by the man from Mr Cooper should see me right. Now, where’s the girl? It’s clobberin’ time!
8th September 2016
This is my girlfriend Sookie … she’s a babe! And she can sing (see below) …. seen here covering ‘I Kissed a Girl’
3rd September 2016
Do what? September already? Time has flown, and so has the girl – flown under the bed, up the stairs, through the food trays and up the curtains. She likes flies, and hunts them with all the required stealth, belly-creeping and nek-nek-nek chattering – then a wiggle of the bum and POUNCE! Then, to the man and woman’s horror, she tortures and eats them. Brrrr! She’s a horror, but the sweetest little horror there’s ever been. I am moderately well, although I have a slight hot-weather cough, but the Ezri is limping on her front right leg with some strain or sprain, so she’ll see Mr Cooper today or tomorrow. And then? Why Autumn, that’s what, with log fires and the prospect of Jadzia’s first Christmes, including the tree (!) – more soon …
22nd July 2016
Phew. A hot few days, mostly spent in the halls, wherever there’s a draught, or in the undergrowth where it’s cool. The girl is lucky with her ‘shortie’ fur coat, whereas we fluffy blackie-whities not so much, and refuge has occasionally to be sought as her energy levels approach the nuclear … phew, again. Coming soon, a photo gallery of the ‘dear little thing’ and some of Ezri and I, I should hope …
15th July 2016
A new ‘AKA’ for the girl this morning as I attempted to move my graceful and beautiful self through the catflap in search of some grub – only to be met at each attempt with a small ‘biff’ from the flap as she jabbed me Muhammad Ali-style from inside. So, in addition to ‘Alice the Growly’ and ‘Scabby Logan’, she is now also known as ‘Biff Wellington’ … more soon ??
8th July 2016
Some sun, some rain, some fun, some pain … the girl grows in strength and agility under my expert tutelage, and is becoming a mistress of Cat-Fu, the most graceful of the martial arts. She is not unlike a young Ezri, who was trained by the mighty Kahn, but her slender frame hints at Egyptian genes and her multi-coloured coat is reminiscent of a sweet toffee chocolate swirl OM-NOM-NOM!
5th July 2016
As Kate Bush so memorably sampled, ‘It’s in the trees! It’s coming!’ – the girl was the first to exploit the newly-pruned cordylines in the garden, and was straight up them like ‘a ferret up a drainpipe!’ … I looked on for a while, but her agility and enthusiasm was contagious and I could not help myself. A veritable ‘Duel of the Fates‘ ensued at the giddy height of four feet above terra firma, and it was bloody good fun. She is a good playmate.
29th June 2016
Carnage! Decimation! Despite Ezri the she-cat’s stern looks and hissy faces in the girl’s direction, she has begun to bring in a small and swiftly deceased victim every night – sparrows, mainly, poor things. Is she teaching her … mothering her … corrupting her sweet little Romanian soul? Who can tell? The man is becoming more intimately acquainted with the body parts of the local wildlife than he ever dreamed possible, although the soft sod says ‘a few words’ over every tiny body, which is plain weird as he’s an anti-theist (or so he says) … more soon, so watch where you tread in this house ??
25th June 2016
Man has hay fever and is moping, but woman is industrious as ever and is selling on eBay like mad. My suggestion of listing the she-cat and using the cash for cat treats was greeted with stern looks. No strokes tonight, I fear …
Ezri … she kill you! When she wakes up … see below!
24th June 2016
Man and woman about good and early this morning … something on the television about ‘Brexit’ (?) and an utter mong called Farridge or something, pulling faces and breaking promises. The girl was on good form in her ‘Alice the Growly’ persona, and as soon as the back door was open, she shot down the leafy alley to look at the birds in Daphne’s arboretum. Came back later though. In the dark of the night the she-cat Ezri (fear her) brought a small dead mouse, just the right size, and gave it to the girl to throw about. Is Ezri thawing towards Jadzia? We shall see …
22nd June 2016
The man and the woman are in slightly heightened emotional state, what with the European In/Out Referendum tomorrow. I have heard them say they’re both ‘in’ but as they were headed ‘out’ to the pub at the time, I wouldn’t fire up my ‘BetFred’ app just yet if I were you – most confusing.
The girl Jadzia has a bottomless pit of running, jumping, fighting, growling energy to call upon, so much so that even I with my mighty engine (sponsored by Sheba cat food) sometimes need to catch my breath on top of the canvas wardrobes or on the top bunk (Incredible Hulk! Thor! Biff! Thump!) … but her little face and delightful squealing, as I close my jaws (gently) on her tender chicken legs, call me back again and again …
21st June 2016
The girl Jadzia has been with us nearly a month, and a strange and fascinating creature she is. I have stolen a look at her pet passport, which she used to travel to live with us from Romania. This august document (which includes mention of a rabies vaccination!) says that she is eleven months old going on one year so, despite her small size, she is almost a grown cat. People have observed us eating together with a mixture of wonderment and hilarity, because of the striking size difference, but I have heard her nom as well as seen her tuck in, and her appetite may well have a knock-on effect if she has any late growing left to do. Watch this space (while it is a space)