There is no Death of Cats, just Death; the one that comes for all of us.
It is said that cats have nine lives and that may possibly be due to the fact it takes Old Bony nine goes at it before he can bring himself to take a feline to the afterlife.
CATS ARE NICE, he was once heard to remark but if one were to be totally honest, cats are not nice. They can be nice, yes. They can be downright adorable fluff balls of loveliness. But if there ever was an an animal that could be described as a bastard, it's the cat. The manipulative skills of a cat far exceed those of any human dictator. Their ability to enslave the human race with a well-placed mew and purr is undeniable. And we go willingly into this servitude armed with kibble, toys, fuss, cuddles, maybe some of that smoked salmon? Just for a treat? You know, the packet you bought for yourself that you end up feeding to your four-legged master or mistress? Face it, you knew you were never going to get a look in.
But what do we get out of this deal? What do we get in return for shaping our entire lives and all our priorities around these little monsters?
We get gifts, some of them still flapping; a pigeon caught mid-air, a headless mouse. When we're sick they comfort us, when we're lonely, or sad, or just having a bad day, they sit with us like sentinels against the dark. They look at you with knowing eyes and it's hard to shake off the feeling that they have seen it all before. They've seen it all before and they know as long as they get fed in the morning it is all going to be alright.
And it's no surprise that when Death does finally get to the ninth go that we miss them. There is a cat shaped space in our lives where they used to demand their third breakfast. There is the feeling of them strolling by, just at the corner of your vision sneakily trying to trip you up. They are never truly gone. Their paw prints are on the surfaces of our souls.
When inevitably it is our time to take a walk on the black sand I'd like to think that Death has reserved a special place for those who love cats. I rather suspect he's made sure of it.