At 10.30pm at night that's never a good sound, unfortunately this time ran true to form. 2 people were on our doorstep to ask if the cat they'd just hit on the road was ours. It was a grey tortie and sadly it was our lovely Smokey cat. The only good thing was that it was quick, they'd moved her off the road and now we knew. Not their fault, not Smokey's fault either; possibly the fault of the aftershock shortly beforehand.
How on earth do we tell the boys though? Ian adored her and we'll never find another cat as good with him as she was. She's going in the vege patch tomorrow morning, she's in the grave already, we just need to let the boys see her before we cover her up and say goodbye.
Smokey, RIP, you will be missed.
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