A week ago today, Harvey went out on a beautiful moonlit night and didn’t come home. I think he was hit by a car, found by someone who knew where he lived and left him outside by my gate. Whoever left him I am grateful, and I understand that they couldn’t knock on the door. I don’t think I could either.
I had been out to look for him during the night, as he was always very good about coming home, and I was going out first thing to buy a printer cartridge so I could leaflet the street when I found him. I was really heartbroken, he hadn’t quite reached his 6th birthday, and he was so happy.
When I got him he had been rehomed as he had problems being bullied in his previous neighbourhood and had been reduced to having just a windowsill to call his own – so it had been a really big thing for him to get out there and stick up for himself and really enjoy it. Going out had changed him from being quite nervous and hiding from visitors, into being a confident cat who interrogated people who appeared in his flat. And he used to spend a lot of time telling me loudly and at great length, what had occurred while he was out and about. I know that if I had kept him indoors he would still be here with me but he wouldn’t have had the chance to, very briefly be a happy cat outside.
I miss him a lot, he was a lovely cat and the flat is so quiet without him. So in celebration of a cat that is sorely missed but lived life loudly, some pictures: