Vale, Hobson.

This is just a very short post.

For the first time in more years than I care to remember, I have no animals.

Last night, my cat, Hobson, didn't come home. As the weather cools down, Hobson is always keen to be inside.

I acquired Hobson as a semi-feral teenage cat from our local RSPCA. Our cat, George, had been hit by a car, and our other cat and dog missed him. Hobson came into our lives. He loved the other cat, adored the elderly Labrador and loved me.

For many years, he'd have nothing to do with the Accountant, and generally gave the kids a wide berth. One of my friends, when seeing Hobson streak past her said, ``That's not a cat. It's a wabbit!''

Hobson seemed to be scared of most people, but was a mighty hunter of rabbits, rats and mice - and I'm ashamed to say, occasionally, birds.

He kept his white bits very white, and I loved him and he was hit by a car last night. I found him when I returned from the gym this morning out the front of our house.

We have buried him, and in keeping with our traditions, will plant a fruit tree over his grave (actually 2 - because I think he will look after the kiwi fruit vines for us, and you need a male and a female).

Goodbye Hobson. You have been my cat for over nine years. You were always as light as a feather. We joked that you had bird bones. But this morning you felt very very heavy.



Goodbye.