We had some sad news this evening.. Poppy got hit by a car just outside our house and died pretty much instantly.
We had a knock on the door at about 6.30pm, I was bathing the boys. A man was at the door and asked, 'Do you have a cat?'
'Yes,' I replied, and as he was describing her I could see her on the grass verge behind him. I ran down the steps to see if it was our Poppy but I already knew it was her. The man was so sorry.. he had cats and a dog himself. Poppy had run out in front of him and the bumper of the car hit her. She was muddy but didn't look 'damaged'.. in fact I couldn't tell at first if she was dead or maybe still alive. But she was dead.. for which I'm thankful in a way.. I think it must been pretty quick. If she'd been injured and in pain I don't think I could have taken that.
I put her in a box, brought her in, then told the boys. They took it quite well.. Harry kept going back to the box to look at her and kept asking why she had died. Charlie matter-of-factly said we'd need to go to the pet shop for another one.. though later he decided he would prefer a dog. I don't think either of them understand what's happened to be honest. This is going to be a harsh lesson in life and death.. Poppy won't be 'alright' tomorrow.
At first it didn't really hit me, either.. but putting the boys to bed tonight was hard. Poppy would always appear in the boys' room at bedtime, settle down on Charlie's bed and hope we wouldn't take her downstairs. There are so many things we are going to miss about her. She was a total nutcase, had a saggy belly and always pestered us for food.. I mean constantly.. but she was also patient and tolerant of the boys, good company on a lonely evening and a member of our family.
She'll be buried at the back of the garden in the 'jungle', where all the poppies grow in the summer. Seems appropriate.. she loved lying around there hunting slow-worms.
