The Day the music died ..

"Freckles cat, Freckles cat where are you? Weeeee loove you"

our wonderful little friend and companion Freckles got hit and killed by a car on Sunday. For the non-initiated to the world of pet-ownership, it will sound trivial trying to convey the loss, in this world of human misery and suffering. In our little corner of the world though, in our raised ground flat in north-east London - Freckles has been a daily source of comfort and companionship. The last three years have been challenging enough for Jo and I, but Freckles and his brother Fang have, thankfully, been oblivious to the difficulties and just been themselves in a way that model pets should be I guess - offering unconditional affection, friendship and distraction.

Freckles was a character - I have never heard a cat 'talk' so much, at all hours of the day and night - if he hadn't have died I probably would have killed him myself eventually! He would respond to our conversation with a whole variety of cat wails that made us wonder if he wasn't some poor lost human soul, reincarnated for his sins into a domestic pet's body, and trying desperately to communicate something to us. Behaviour-wise, he was almost certainly a dog trapped inside a feline body ... it's not often you see cats chase balls, fetch and return sticks, or sprint around the garden, playing catch.

Annoyingly inquisitive for as long as we have known him, Freckles began life as an indoor cat in Houston, Texas where we were living and working between 2000-2002. From the start, his unusual pacing, wailing and - literally - howling at the moon led us to think from the outset that he felt destined for something more than life as an indoor cat. Luckily for us, neither he nor his brother Fang had been subjected to the ultimate indignity (and houstonian habit?) of being de-clawed in order to spare the upholstery. So once shipped back to London and out of quarantine, it was only a matter of time before his incessant scratching at the windows, cat-flap and front and back doors forced us to realise that he needed, and was equipped for a life outdoors.

The cats blossomed outdoors, in an environment we considered a haven for cats (or that matter any other type of animal). Cut-off almost completely from any nearby roads and (unusually for inner London) a large grouping of 'natural' gardens that presented almost as woodland, as unfettered as they are by modern garden fashions, fencing or borders - you might say that Freckles and Fang had found paradise on earth and they were never happier than when lounging, chasing and exploring 'in the yard'.

Unfortunately, a paradise 'on earth' was not enough for young Freckles, and how gut-wrenching the cliche sounds today, but sadly 'curiosity killed this little cat'. He must have found a crack of an alley that led out between the houses onto a nearby rd (a cul-de-sac for christ's sake) and that - unfortunately for him and all of us left to mourn him - was that.

Luckily, after a short (yet ominous) search to discount the only places left that made sense (we never really let ourselves believe he had any need to find himself out there), we found - first - the blood stained evidence of a recent accident (no, not Freckles we sorely forced ourselves into believing); then - the battered body of our dearest little friend and companion - thankfully moved from the road and onto the pavement.

How we would have appreciated them taking the number from Freckles' collar and calling us on Sunday night, a night in which we barely slept, with fear for that missing mass of black and white fur who should have been spending this - like every other night - with us, cutting off the blood supply to our lower legs!

At least we found you Freckles. And brought you home. And here you now rest with us, in view of our window onto the garden we used to share with you. And in the spot where you used to lie lazily, watching us toil in the garden! Not the cat's life we had grown accustomed to envying you for; but a cat's life nevertheless. Let's hope that cat paradise is good enough for you, since the one we tried to create here on earth for you apparently wasn't - you little sod.

Jo and I have said oftentimes in the past 10 years that if one of us died and left the other one all alone, we would piss on each's grave to show our disgust at having been left behind. Well, if it wasn't so damn tragic for the three of us, isn't it now so deliciously ironic that, of all the places in the garden, Fango has chosen Freckles' grave as his new litter tray! Nice one Fang - perhaps they are human, and understood us all along.

Love you. Miss you. Bye, Nick, Jo, Fang xxxx

Freckles: 08/1999 - 05/2004

Emulating the REAL Norwich!

So Norwich are in the premiership?! And Champions to boot?! Well, they surely could not have done it without a little inspiration from the real Norwich (the Capital Canaries team, a.k.a. "Norwich City London Area Supporters" club) who earned promotion .. as Champions .. into the top flight of our own Sunday League!

Having achieved an unstoppable season record of Played 18, Won 16, Drawn 1, Lost 1 only a few weeks earlier - who, arguably set a better example for the boys at Carrow Rd to follow?!! Hmmm, well - a man can dream can't he?!

E.O.T.T. Baby!

Silver ... Silverware! Silveeeer, Silverware! Silver, Silverware! Super Silverware!

Norwich City are promoted and Champions of Division One!