Last Sunday we unexpectedly lost our little baby, Noggle. Barely a year and a half old, his unexpected passing left us in shock. This morning we have collected his ashes from the kind and caring people at Individual Pet & Equine Cremation and he’s currently being watched over in his “new home” by Bastet.
With this post though, I just wanted to relive a few of the memories of this quirky little furball and share some of the endearing photos we took in his tragically short life.
And so it all starts back in Sept 2011 when we went to collect a kitten just outside Rugby. When we arrived and entered the garage where the kittens and mother were being housed I jokingly wondered aloud which one we would take home. When the door opened, a little grey-black ball of fluff was gambolling towards us. Scooping him up, much to his frustration, the choice had been made.
The entire journey home, he was climbing around me in the back of the car – doing anything but sit in the nice comfy box we’d brought for him. Once we got him home, he was quick to explore and proclaim his ownership of all his little googly-eyes surveyed, most importantly forgetting his older and much bigger foster-siblings who were less than impressed (initially) at the arrival of a furry ball of chaos.
His name “Noggle” I selected from “Your Magickal Cat” by Gerina Dunwich after a mischievous grey-coloured European spirit. It certainly seemed to fit his boisterous little personality and he certainly grew into his namesake.
That first night we were to play an unexpected 20-min game of “Where’s Noggle!?” when the little tyke completely vanished! Panic-stricken, we all but tore the house apart searching for him; fearing he may have climbed in the washing machine, the dishwasher or even some how managed to slip past one of us and escape outside. In the end, the little bugger had crawled between the cover lining at the back of the sofa and all was well with the world again.
He never was a cat that liked a cuddle; the instant you’d pick him up he would squirm and fidget and all but leap out of your hands rather than except a bit of loving. That said, when he learnt how to purr was quite comical as it freaked his little self out to the point where he’d purr and cry and then run around as if trying to escape the vibrations that seemed to be following him around. It was cute and amusing, despite his little terror-filled eyes as he darted from one end of the house to the other.
Plastic bags were also one of his favourite things. He would slip inside any bag that was left around and lie in wait until one of his siblings – or even myself – would walk by, then he would launch out like a thing possessed to attack! Usually it would end up with him hanging off my jeans leg; or in the case of his sister (especially) almost riding, piggy-back style as she freaked and ran in the opposite direction.
Eventually he learnt to associate purring with the receipt of food and strokes – so much so he would expect stroking WHILST he ate his food. He also only ever wanted fuss on his own terms. He would come to you and you would stroke him and if he walked away, it wasn’t that he’d had enough it was that he expected you to follow him and continue his petting and pampering whilst he got on with his day to day.
Yule time, he always had a ball – claiming the tree as his own and climbing as high as he could, draping himself along the branches like some pygmy panther. Occasionally you would see a paw emerge from amidst the bristles to swat at baubles, or his siblings should they be too nosey as to why the tree was shaking. 2012 saw him attempting to help (or hinder) decoration of the tree by organising a sleep-in protest in the box of tinsel.
In the last few months of his life, he took to suddenly desiring full on attention – but only when everyone else was going to bed. As I’d go around switching off the lights and telly, he would leap onto the arm of the sofa and meow loudly whilst purring full pelt and nudging my hand with his head – but even then, he still wouldn’t let you pick him up, instantly taking flight, lol!
From cuddling up with his older brother and sister, sleeping between my legs, curling up on my computer desk chair, sleeping in boxes and bags – he did like his shut eye. And given that when he wasn’t asleep he was charging around the house, goading his brother into play fighting and games of “tag”, it was quiet respite for us.
And now he’s home…as his spirit soars, I keep his cremains safe in the beautiful wooden casket box I choose. It has been saddening to loose him so suddenly and so young, but I have been immensely touched by the thoughtfulness kindness and support of family and friends during this last week. I have also been thinking off all the other felines I have known and lost in my life…Ananka, Billy, Zoe, Amber, Sooty, Topsy, Sinbad, Sparky, Benny…and I’m sure he’s giving them all a run for their money!
Sleep well my beautiful little boy…daddy loves you always…
Bastet, Sekhmet, we give you back your child.
Noble, regal, honourable cat.
Watch over him, and guide him on his way
to the spirit world.
May he be blessed in Your names,
and hunt ever after beside you.
The Flaming Thyrsos 