I'm writing this about 20 minutes after finding out that the cat has died.
We all knew that this was coming soon, she was old and deaf and we think she was going blind.
I'm not really a cat person, I've always preferred dogs but Moosbach has always just been there. The strange name is because she was named after a character from a Loriot sketch.
Getting her is one of my earliest memories, we got her as a kitten from on of my mum's friends over 21 years ago. She was a Devon rex cross moggie with a grey coat with black stripes on it.
One of her favourite past-times was annoying me. It wasn't that I was scared of her, I just didn't like her sitting on me, something that she tried to do often. She finally did succeed a couple of weeks ago though so her life wasn't a total waste.
She did find a use for my cupboard though. She loved sleeping in there as my room was typically quiet enough for her to take one of the 8 or 9 naps needed to get enough energy for her main snooze. She did find, however, that my bed wasn't the best place to sleep on, until she would inevitably forget and then sleep on my bed. I was woken up a few times by a cat pawing at my feet because I moved and knocked her.
And now she's gone.
It will be strange being cat-less. I guess it's because she was just there, one of those constants that will be around forever.