Chuy Lewis Update

There has been, for weeks now, a persistent rumour. Whatever happened to Chuy Lewis and The Woogs? Chuy, of course, is our beautiful black panther cat.

He is fondly remembered for delivering a live snake into my bed when I was sleeping. He is now nine years old and has well and truly used up his nine lives, but is so street smart I think he will outlive us all.

This is the post that began it all.

This is the post that signalled the beginning of the end.

A few months ago, Jack plotted a well prepared and relentless campaign to adopt a kitten from a friend of ours who fosters kittens. Can you think of a better thing to do? Anyway, Jack had totally bonded with this plucky little tortoiseshell bastard (I use this word in the traditional sense as her parents were unmarried, or didn’t even take the time to share a meal).

Like Chuy, she was fatherless.

Eventually, Jack wore us down which goes to prove that nagging can actually pay off.

I get all naming rights as I am the monarch of this castle, and I declared her name to be Dusty Springfield Woog as “I only want to me with you…”

Well, she arrived without much fanfare as we didn’t want to upset the resident canine and feline. Isobel fell in love with her at first sight as here was a cat that didn’t want to gouge her eyes out, but Chuy was a different story.

He looked at the kitten. He looked at me. He puffed up to the side of a baby elephant, hissed like a snake before slowly moving towards the cat flap.

Chuy had officially handed in his notice and has moved in with Douglas, four doors down. We had to have a formal handover, which was very upsetting to me. I try to visit him but he looks at me with such distain that it is heartbreaking.

I miss him. I miss the weight of him as he tried to lay on my head in the middle of the night. I miss patting him, until he lets me know that he has had enough my administering an unannounced bite to my hand.

I miss our chats.

“How are you today my darling?”

“Meow, meow…”

“Oh and then what happened?”

“Meow, meow, meow…”

Our conversations were deep and lengthy. And now he has those conversations with Douglas. I will sit in Douglas’s kitchen and try to talk with him, but he just stares at me, tail a twitching until I take my leave.

The dog, he could handle, bit the kitten was the last straw.

If I knew what was going to happen, would I have agreed to adopt the kitten? I don’t think I would. But I can’t go back in time now, so I just have to accept it.

Chuy, you are and forever will be the love of my life. And when I picture you and Douglas together, all I can think of is this….

Douglas on the left, Chuy on the right.

And that *wipes tears from my eyes* is what happened to Chuy.