RIP Ulysse

Ulysse 2004-2018

Last night there was a ring on the door bell at about 10pm. One's thoughts immediately fly to one's son, out and about with his car... but it was the door bell, not someone banging on the door as the police are wont to do.

I opened the door to some stricken-looking neighbours who asked me if I was the owner of Ulysse. They said something had happened to him and I should come immediately. I called for Christophe and we followed the neighbours down the road.

They said he'd been in a fight with their dog. He had gone into their garden, they weren't sure what had happened exactly but they tried to separate the balls of fury. They got them apart, and lay Ulysse on the ground where he died, maybe of a heart attack.

I arrived on the scene, and thought, that isn't Ulysse. His fur was all fluffy, his tail bushy. Then I saw the white spot at the end of his tail and I knew.

I reassured the neighbours - the mum was in tears and everyone was terribly upset. I thanked them for letting us know what had happened, picked him up and took him home.

Ulysse 'helping' me learn Csharp

Ulysse had always been the 'chef du quartier'. He picked me out at the SPA when he was six month's old, and immediately set about claiming his territory in our road. We had recently moved there and there were very few cats. Ulysse had no trouble proclaiming himself king, and was the scourge of all the cats that arrived after him. Until he got too old to care.

He was not terribly cuddle-friendly for years. He would sit near us, but never on our laps. If I sat in the garden, he would join me, and if I went down the path towards the shops, he would accompany me as far as the road, and then sit and wait for me to come back.

When he started getting on a bit, he took to our laps, and he loved it when we were ill and had to stay home. His nursing skills were unparalleled and greatly appreciated.

Ulysse on my lap during a bout of 'flu

Not so appreciated was the revenge he took when we went on holiday. On several occasions I arrived home to find he'd poo'd on my duvet and peed on the bed. He could be quite a little bugger!

He had a very discerning eye for our visitors, and you could trust his judgement as to who was a decent person.

Not long after he arrived here, he tried crossing a road without looking, and was hit by a car. He managed to hobble home, and I had to take him to the emergency vet. His jaw had been broken so they had to reset it and keep him under observation for a few days. Ulysse was a lot more careful after that experience!

Ulysse flaked out on the compost bin

He could recognise the sound of all the cars and motorbikes that mattered to him. When he heard mine, he would often appear from the bushes and sit and wait for me. He had his favourite spots for a snooze, or bedtime, and these would change every so often. If he determined that a particular bedroom would be his chosen place to sleep, woe betide anyone who tried to stop him getting there. He would miaow persistently until he got his way.

Fleas loved him too. Despite regularly dosing him with Frontline, he would be incessantly bothered by them. We fought a losing battle with the little buggers. They'll have to look elsewhere for a cosy nest and tasty morsel from now on!

While I'm very sad that my darling boy is gone, I'm also relieved that he will not become decrepit in his old age. This past year, he seemed to age before our eyes. He lost weight (to his correct weight for his size...), his black fur turned a rusty brown and his joints were starting to seize up.

I've had cats before that lived a long time, and I'm not sure that the last years were very pleasant. Ulysse died as he had lived, in battle. As Christophe said, 'Super U-cat' died a warrior.

Much loved, he went out with a bang.

RIP my little darling boy.

RIP MJ

Our Mickey J is dead and buried, commemorated, memorialised and officially put to rest.

To be honest, I sincerely hope that'll be the end of the hype and we can all get back to reading Other News without having to wade through details of the Jackson Death/Drug Abuse/Weird Stuff/Concert/Making of Potential Millions/Child Custody. Even the French newspapers are making a Big Deal out of this news, although going by comments on Le Figaro, a lot of people are getting heartily sick of seeing it everywhere.

It's not that I didn't think much of Michael Jackson. He was a bit older than me and I listened to his music along with everyone else at the time. Clearly more creative than most, he provided good entertainment which was rather the point of him.

Then he started getting weird and I lost interest.

Some people should die young, and I really believe that Michael Jackson was one of those. Actually, considering how kooky he got, he should have gone some time ago and, while I feel sorry his kids have lost their dad, it seems that the real Michael Jackson was already lost. We are constantly being told not to judge people by their looks, but when someone goes to such extremes to alter his appearance, how can one not judge the outcome?

He had become visually grotesque and however sweet as a person he was, he must have been seriously disturbed to turn himself into such a ghastly monster.

So, before he had a chance to do himself even more damage and face even more ridicule from people, he fortuitously died. Some people should be saved from themselves, and his entourage was clearly inept at doing so. Had they done the right thing, he could still be alive and merely eccentric, growing old gracefully, rather than dead and remembered for being horribly weird.

I can't really imagine him old though. Neither, I'm sure, could he.

RIP Michael Jackson.