In memory of Hoffy

My big, bold, beautiful Hoffy, you crossed the Rainbow Bridge too soon. It all happened so fast. You were diagnosed in March with a serious heart condition, your prognosis was 6-12 months, but on 23rd June, you collapsed again and did not recover this time. I made the painful decision on 24th June to let you go. My heart shattered into a thousand pieces. You were my lockdown boy, born 12th March 2020, the only time I broke the rules was to collect you, handed over on the doorstep of my work colleague, an eight-week-old bundle of tabby and white fluff. I called you Hoffen, German for hope, we all needed hope in those dark lockdown days, and you became Hoffy. I live alone, and you got me through. Your life was painfully short, but it was such a good life, you were bold and unafraid, you loved being outside, but always came when I called you. I can still see you now, bounding across the lawn and in through the back window. I have your image and your pawprint tattooed on my arm so you are with me always.

by Joan Todd