Earlier this week, an irreplaceable part of the borders died. It wasn’t a specimen tree, sentimental shrub or prized plant that died, it was Bob, the ginger cat.

Bob doing his favourite outdoor activity, sleeping

Bob belonged to a neighbour but was a frequent visitor to our garden. He could be spotted sleeping under the fronds of the Canariensis in the front, sleeping in the greenhouse at the back, sleeping on the car, sleeping on the bulk bags of compost, sleeping on the chairs, just generally sleeping. He would often stalk unseen prey among the Nomadic Patio Pots, drink horribly stagnant water, ignoring the fresh and used the dense planting and foliage in the borders to hide out, escape, relax, sleep, prey, whatever it is that cats do.

Bob doing his favourite indoor activity, sleeping

Bob was a quirky and nosey cat, often pawing at the back door to be allowed in, he would circle the kitchen, pop into the dining room, wander down the hall, briefly sleep in the office and then want to be let out the front door, as if to say, “inspection passed, see you tomorrow”. He was friendly too, sometimes wanting just a rub, other times more attention. Sometimes he just passed by the patio windows, raising his head as if to say, “hello” before trundling on by.

It was Bob’s propensity to appear as a sudden puddle of bright miaowing orange in a border that came as a surprise on more than one occasion while gardening and it made him very much a part of the borders, just as any other plant.

Stalking in the borders

Sadly, Bob and his quirkiness is no more. After breaking the unfortunate news to his owner, Bob is now sleeping under the very borders he used to play in so much. Buried in Crocosmia Circus, we will no longer see Bob’s bright orange coat as a puddle in between the leaves, but we will see Bob in the bright red and orange flames of the mass of Crocosmia that will be planted above him. I guess this is the cycle of nature.

Rest in peace, Bob, I will see you again in flowers.