We had to have Newes put to sleep today. She'd made it to 19 so had done very well but over the last couple of weeks she'd become very frail and by yesterday could hardly walk, and was looking very sorry for herself.
She'd adopted me from the start, and I'd always wanted a black cat. My first sight of her was with her four sisters in a bread tray in a very cold Leadhills back in 1990. She used to chase me around the kitchen.
When I moved back to England I had to take the five cats in various carriers, with Newes in a cardboard box. She escaped within ten miles and spent the next four hundred miles sitting on my lap! She's had a great and varied life, living in the hills of Scotland, down on the south coast, up in the hills again at Horningsham and finally in Bristol.
Bottom shot is her (background) going out in the snow in about March 1991. Her sister Pyewackett is in the foreground and is still going strong!
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