Final Chapter for Page

We said goodbye to Page this month. Old injuries took their toll and we finally made the sad decision to put him to sleep last week. Page was no ordinary cat - almot from the very beginning he's been, well, different. My nephew Gavin got Page as a kitten and called the little ball of fluff Paige. It was only on his first visit to the vet (the first of quite a few over the years) that Gavin discovered that Paige was not in fact a wee girl but a tom - Paige became Page, in honour of Led Zeppelin's Jimmy of that ilk. When Gavin moved to a new flat in Telford Page went too, only to be stood on by a flatmate. His back and back legs were injured - resulting in an unmistakable wobbly gait - but Page lived to tell the tale; this was but the first of a few 'incidents' in Page's eventful life. When Gavin couldn't take Page when he moved to Cramond, Page was rehoused with us here in Drylaw. It was Page's first opportunity to get out of the house - and he seized it with all paws! Unfortunately hs ventures into the big wide worls brought him into contact with other wildlife and Page had a hard lesson to learn - that you don't fratenise with foxes! His initial meeting resulted in a hefty vet's bill and the loss of his most striking feature - a long, elegant tail. Undaunted (or clueless?) Page returned to Drylaw - tailless and even more wobbly - only to be attacked by foxes again the following year! A lengthy stay at the vets - and another eye-watering bill - later, Page was back in Drylaw. An older and wiser cat? No, not really! Page got through his nine lives - house fire, fox attacks, you name it - with gay abandon. He wasn't your average pet = he cared not a jot! Over recent months Page's old injuries caught up with him and he became inceasingly immobile - the spirit was still willing but the old legs just wouldn't work - and last week we made the horrible decision to take Page to the vets (which was pretty much his second home, anyway). It was no surprise when the vet decided to put him to sleep, and his end was very peaceful if very sad. With his rotten breath, the tuggy coat that made you sneeze when you picked him up, with the wee 'bullets' he left as presents sround the home to welcome you downstairs in the morning, you'd be forgiven for asking: what exactly did Page bring to the table? Well, he was a real wee character, a 'one-off' - the 'care in the community' cat who shared our lives for twelve years. Smelly, wobbly, comical ... we'll never forget Page and the house isn't quite the same without him!