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Bessie My first cat was called Bessie. He was the result of a mix between a 'blue Russian' and an undefined breed. Bessie was big, beautiful and dangerous. At times he could be false, and he had particular an aversion against certain voices. We were not allowed to sing when he was in the neighbourhood, and some people could even not enter the house (or better: didn't dare to...), before Bessie was locked away at a safe place.A special cat, that first one of mine. I think many people remember him, but if all those memories are that good..? He was my best friends and a patient listener to my children secrets (he was good in keeping them). When I was sad, I dried my tears in his fur. And oh my... how we played together. I could do almost anything with him. Only if it became to crazy he showed his nails to me: I once tried to dress him and put him in my perambulator... That was to much! A big scar still reminds me of that moment. He died in my arms on the age of fourteen years. A nasty brain tumour took him away from us. We never expected that I would come back in tears and empty handed, when I took him to the vet. He just didn't seem to know his way anymore. Like he had some problems with his memory... That is now more than 20 years ago (Bessie died in 1983), but the memories about him are as fresh as the ones from yesterday. |
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