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From a new life in spain, to an old life in britain, 'roaming brit' documents uncertain times!

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On 31st January 2016, my partner and I left Southampton to start a new life as Expats in Gran Alacant, on the Costa Blanca. This blog will document our journey, as we navigate the Spanish system, travelling a path untried and untested. With Brexit looming, political turmoil in Europe, and an unpredictable future, harsh decisions must be made. Illness, family bonds, and a Change of heart all make for challenging times in the life of a 'Roaming Brit!'

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Life of Precious!

5/4/2017

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4 April 2017

I lost my cat today! My best friend, my happiness, my Precious; my life! Precious came to us twelve years ago. A friends cat had given birth, in the street we lived in; a small village, up north, called ‘Sough!’ She was our last link to the North of England and our time spent living in Barnoldswick. We also took her brother ‘Squeeler!’ He was a typical male cat in every way; always out on the tiles, always in fights; the rough side of Precious. As brother and sister, they loved each other; you could see it; and were rarely apart.

Squeeler died before his second Birthday. Myself and Darrell, had left our northern retreat, selling our home and moving back down, to sunny Southampton. We acquired a house in historic, Rockstone Lane, the oldest street in the city. It was tiny, with beamed ceilings and an overgrown court yard garden. It was homely and a place I enjoyed living in, close to the city centre. Rockstone Lane is for all intense and purposes, a cul-de-sac. Squeeler used to lie in the sun, straddled out, at the end of our road. Sadly he was hit by a car one evening; we both felt as guilty as we could be. Darrell, used to go out every night and call Squeeler. This particular day, he forgot, the unthinkable happened and he carried the pain of his death around with him, for many years.

We remained at Rockstone Lane for a year, thereafter moving into a large house, in St Deny’s; Adelaide Road, the suburbs of Southampton. It took a while for Precious to get used to losing her brother, but eventually she did. She was very much territorial and hated the thought of any other cat, coming into her home, right up to her death, yesterday. It wasn’t long after we had moved, that I brought home Lily, our now, only surviving cat. She was a rescue cat. She was a pedigree, Oriental Foreign White, who had been kept in a cage, for breeding only. A difficult pregnancy and a botched operation later, she arrived home with me and into our lives.

I suppose Precious and Lily had a kind of love hate relationship. Precious never really got used to having another cat about; she tolerated it, if you will. Lily is a bit of a teaser and would terrorise Precious, when she was in one of those moods, which did cause fights at the beginning. In the end they learned to live with each other; two female felines, fighting for oneupwomanship.

Both Precious and Lily have been in some scrapes, both suffering from cat flu, after we were away on holiday, being looked after by a friend. It was touch and go for a while; we thought one or the other would die at one stage, but luckily, they pulled through together. Precious also had many ailments, using her nine lives up, all the while. She had allergies, asthma and breathing difficulties. On several occasions we took her to the vet, where she was given Oxygen, to ease her chronic chest condition. It always worked for a while, but eventually she would surcome to one illness or another. On top of her ill health, like her new, adopted sister, Lily, Precious had some teeth removed. After the cat flu, her teeth started to deteriorate, so extraction was the best course of action. She recovered, but never well enough.

When we moved to Spain, Darrell transported both Lily and Precious by van on the ferry through France and the length and breadth of Spain. He and our friend Dale, traveled together, staying at pet hotels all the way. It wasn’t too much of a hassle getting the passports for them both and we were determined, they should  come with us. At times, I believe, Darrell didn’t think they would make the journey, but all of them arrived safe and sound in Alicante, a little over a year ago. These two cats had traveled many miles, like us; Precious further still, born in Lancashire, died in Valencia, not may cats can say that. She had seen the sites, endured the poisonous caterpillars, that plague this part of Spain, endured Rufus, the cat next door to our Spanish Casa and experienced the severe Spanish sun, as well as, the worst winter in Spain for a hundred years. Our fresh start was also a new beginning for our cats.

Both Precious and Lily didn’t really take to their new lives in Gran Alacant. Precious went steadily down hill, ever since she arrived here, suffering more illnesses than ever before. A few months ago, she suffered, what I thought was just a nose bleed. I took her to the vets, where she was duly treated and everything, at least on the surface, cleared up. Yesterday, the nose bleed came back, worse than ever. Just before we went to bed, it started and by the time we woke up, she was almost lifeless. I knew then, it was her time to go. A friend, Paul rushed me to the vets in the morning, then on to a second surgery for xrays. When the vet returned from the theatre, she had a look of despair. Her chest xray, had come back clear, but the xray of her head and nasal passage was causing concern. On the right side of her face, there was a giant mass. The vet said it could be a tumour, or as I suspect a brain hemorrhage. Precious was in a tremendous amount of pain and I took the decision, to have her put to sleep. It was the most horrendous experience I have ever endured. I stayed with her right until the end, stroking her forehead, whispering in her ear and holding her paw, until, she eventually passed away. At least she knew I was with her at the end. I really didn’t want to see  Precious, in any more pain. The vet brought me water and even kissed me on the cheeks. She had seen Precious before and her compassion was clear. How does one, make the decision, to end a life. I have never had to do that and continually have doubts about what I have done.

Precious was a huge part of my life. She came to me, after a long illness. Darrell thought a pet cat would be good for me; he was right, she bought me back, made me feel happy again and gave me purpose; something to look after in life. To be honest, she was always Darrell’s cat, he would dote over her. Every night, she would sleep on his chest, paw extended to meet his face, lovingly touching his smile. As devastated as I am, I know my partner will be more so. He loved her with all his heart and it is going to be difficult to accept her loss. Losing a loved one is part of life, an inevitability, but it still hurts painfully nevertheless. In time, wounds heal, but the memories of the twelve years I spent with my little companion, will never fade. When Precious died, I removed a lock of fur from her and will keep it, as a reminder on the best friend I have ever had. Life feels hard right now, but it would have been even harder, had she not been a part of it.

Love you baby girl, sleep tight, until we meet again!


5 April 2017

Yesterday morning, before I took Precious to the vets, I popped in to our spare room, as soon as I got up. Precious was in a bad way, I could see that. To my surprise, Lily was curled up with her on the bed, watching over her. Cats, like any animal, have a great sense, in times of crisis. This morning was no different. Lily usually sleeps with me in bed, but she was no where to be seen, so at 2am, I got up to look for her. I found her, once again sleeping in the spare room, exactly where Precious used to sleep; I got in bed, sleeping next to her, which seemed to make her happy, purring louder than ever. It is sad watching Lily, wander round the house, looking for her sister, it breaks my heart. The feeling of guilt I have, for taking the decision to end her life is palpable and will not go away anytime soon.

The house felt empty, when I got up. Usually I am awoken every morning at 5am, by Precious, vocally demanding her morning feed. She hasn’t done that for a while, since she became ill, but I missed it, today, more than ever. I ran my bath, as usual; usually Precious would come into the bathroom with me. The steam was good for her chest. She hated going in there as a rule, but on the morning, the day before she died, she was waiting in there for me. She knew her trips to the bathroom would help.

Lily came down stairs today and waited by her plate of food, not wanted to eat until her sister came over. She is already finding it very hard and I know these first weeks without her companion are crucial. Lily is an old girl, and I am not sure, how she will take to living without Precious; I have to take it one day at a time.

I have just got back from the vets. I was in such a state yesterday, they told me to pay the bill today. The vets in Gran Alacant, oposite Quicksave, are fantastic. The consultant looked after me, making sure I was OK, as Precious lost her fight for life. The bill I was presented with, was a fraction of what it should have been. She had removed much of the cost, including Xrays, which was a generous gesture and I thank them for everything, they have done.

The hard work starts now. Myself and Darrell, will not get over Precious death quickly. It is even harder, because we are currently apart. The emptiness I feel, physically hurts. Some time to myself and a retreat from the world for a few days, will help!

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    51-year-old Author and professional blogger. Expat formerly living in Gran Alacant on the Costa Blanca! Currently, residing in my adopted home of Perth, Western Australia.

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