My wife Catherine and I adopted Amelia, our first cat, in April 1985 following the death of my much loved great Auntie Marjorie, a Christian, spinster, Oxford academic. Written November 1988. Amelia was later 'laid to rest near Auntie there'. Over the years cats have been like our children, and who knows we might even see them in heaven!
Return Journey
She was Auntie’s cat, coming from a learned home where many would visit for deep discussion around the cottage fire, playing Old Maid and eating butter scones for tea.
She was a country cat and an able hunter, stalking to the sound of the church bell, and where even rabbit were fair game. Peace reigned.
But then one day, Auntie passed away. What was to happen to this honourable feline? It seemed no-one wanted her, was she also at death’s door?
She must have prayed as Auntie had taught her, for the ‘Almighty provided’ and new friends were found.
Afraid and crying on a lengthy car journey, then jammed behind a fridge in fear, these were the pangs of a new kind of lifestyle, to a city far from things so dear.
Actually, my name is Amelia Barrass Fox or Meelie to my friends. I am a typical British short haired, but not common you understand. I have whiskers like a walrus and the coat of a panda, and you’ll find me in picture books up and down the land.
I got over the trauma of coming to a city and now I am happy in my new home. And it’s great to know I am a gift from the Almighty to Paul and Catherine who love me so.
But if there is one desire that I have in my furry heart, one secret that I would carefully share….
It is one day to return to the country I came from and be laid to rest near Auntie there.
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