Mogh

Pooch. The Boy. Himself.

Mogh died in the garden last night, aged 11, after a short illness. There was no pain or discomfort. He just stopped eating and faded away rather rapidly. The vets could find nothing wrong with him, so we must assume it was just his time. Though far sooner that we hoped.

I hope that, being named for a Klingon warrior, he is in StoVoKor now with his sister B'eti, and old friend Dax. That many prawns are being eaten, and much catnip rolled in. And that tall tales are being told of the birdies hunted, the mouses caught and the days when he brought in rats.

His garden will soon become other cat's territory, but he will live on in our hearts. As I type this I expect to hear his chirp, and to see him padding through to sit on the keyboard and then amble hopefully over to the fridge.

Rest in Peace dear friend. K'pla