We got 2 kittens when I was very little. I don’t remember the circumstances of them arriving but I remember driving home with these fluffy bundles in the car. One was bright ginger and white and the other was tabby and white. Me being me was never going to be able to choose which was mine but the little tabby marched over in the car and fell asleep in my hood. That was that. I sat learning forward the whole way home so I didn’t squish him. It was love.
I wanted to call him Sandy as that is what my Grandma had called her cat. Who was still very much alive at the time. My mum pointed out Sandy might not be impressed so, with my ever questionable logic, I named my cat Little Sand. Not Little Sandy you understand. Little Sand. Poor cat.
Anyway, for years we played together and I dragged him all over the place. Where Timothy was quite an adventurous (and murderous) creature, Little Sand preferred to spend his days indoors and asleep. This suited me and together we were often found asleep.
He got sick when he was about 6/7 years old and had to have an operation. Sadly he never woke up and although I was sad that my friend was gone…he finally got to do what he loved forever….sleep.
Sleep well old friend and my heart carried your sleepy pawprint.