Everyone at Millbrooker Towers felt hugely saddened in the last few days as a result of hearing that Auntie Sharon's dear old (and I mean old) cat, Thomas, had died.
Thomas was a dreadful old reprobate of a cat, and had all but reached the astronomic-for-a-moggy age of twenty. Needless to say Shazzerooneypoos and everyone else who met him loved him loads.
His favourite pastime over recent months had been to make his creaky and slightly arthritic way down from Shazzerooneypoos's hilltop abode in order to accost passers by at the Tanyard in the hope of either a fussing or,if he was very lucky, a lift back up the hill so he could start the whole adventure over again.
Thomas was a well known and well liked creature; as often as not someone would pick him up and carry him back home so he wouldn't have to walk on those ancient legs up one of the steepest hills in Millbrook. He was a bit of a con-cat in my opinion.
This is Thomas last month on Bastille Day being introduced to Russell.
All we can say is "so long, old fella; thanks for the fun and catty-mischievousness" and the Millbrooker Towers contingent sends lots of love to Shazzerooneypoos.
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