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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Monday, September 18, 2006

An old lady taking the sun

To the right is a photograph of Lady Bracknell's feline companion (and her somewhat intimidating shadow).

The veterinary gentleman, having diagnosed an inoperable mammary tumour, pronounced in mid-May that she would not live beyond a maximum of a further three months.

Lady Bracknell's feline companion of very nearly seventeen years is admittedly now both very frail and exceedingly thin, but she will not be dictated to by the timetables of veterinary gentlemen, no matter how charming their Irish accents are.

The weather being fine this morning, she insisted that the back door of Bracknell Towers be left open so that she could take the sun in safety. (Not that the grounds of Bracknell Towers are actually swarming with ravening predators whose preference is for a light snack consisting almost entirely of bone and fur: but this is a cat who, even in her physical prime, would run in fear from a falling leaf. For much of such time as she did ever spend in the grounds, it was generally safe to assume that she would be cowering under the shed.)

As she will not have the pleasure of her feline companion's quiet and unassuming presence for very much longer, Lady Bracknell was more pleased than she can say to see her enjoying the sun.


Blogger Mary said...

I think that today, weather permitting, I may just follow Lady Bracknell's cat's wonderful example.

7:45 am  
Blogger Charlesdawson said...

They are with us for such a short time, aren't they?

May Fishbone have a happy rest of life and a peaceful death.

9:37 am  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dame Honoria is pleased to see Her Ladyship's feline companion enjoying the sunshine.

The Burmese Daemon assures me that the garden is full of Huge Cat-Eating Monsters, and it is for this reason and no other that he finds it necessary to charge through the house with extremely muddy paws at approximately 90mph, the epitome of feline grace.

3:12 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

My resident twin cats wish to extend their warm regards to the estimable matronly feline under your care, and wish to note that the cat who has come to know where all the good sunbeams are has lived a very worthwhile life indeed. The sunbeam awaiting Lady Bracknell's cat in the daisy- and catnip-abundant afterworld, they assure me, will be very bright and warm indeed.

My first cat passed away at the very respectable age of nineteen, from kidney difficulties. She spent a good number of her final days sleeping in her litter box (and could not be coaxed out without force). My cats say it means that if there is a hell, she rules it.

Good wishes,


12:02 am  

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