Raffles (1989 to 1998)

Raffles died on 26 February, 1998, about six weeks short of his ninth birthday. As far as I can tell the end must have been too sudden for him to suffer much. He was loved very dearly and is mourned all over the world by those who knew him.

Raffles was a unique personality. It must seem bizarre to some that his loss is so devastating.

He was more of a companion than a pet. I nursed him when vicious strays had hospitalised him. He consoled me when I was badly injured. He shared several bedsitters with me. He surprised one landlady who heard somebody pissing in the toilet and then discovered it was just Raffles, who somehow had taught himself the knack.

One night he followed me to a pub in Camberwell and got himself invited into a private room by the staff, who provided a saucer of milk and some scraps until it was time to walk home again. Another time he followed me to a local dinner party and then interacted in a meaningful way with all present. Raffles was a phenomenon.

At every place we stayed (in London, Bristol and Oxford) he would immediately get the hang of the neighbourhood and then pursue his own agenda. Whenever he had enough of that he would wait patiently at the door or window to be let back in..

In the winter of 1990 we were living in a place that was impossible to heat so, for Raffles's sake, I got us a council tenancy within three months of making the application. If this achievement resulted from my campaigning skills it would never have occurred without Raffles's inspiration.

We hitch-hiked together on motorways. A van driver who stopped for me assumed I must be calling a dog, until he saw this little black cat come bounding out of the hedge to jump into the vehicle's open door.

He was very brave, but he was a city cat and when horses passed in front of my parents' house, he would hide under the dining table. When we travelled on intercity trains I would let him out of his box and put him on a lead so he could sit on the seat beside me without bothering too many other passengers when he got bored with looking out of the window.

Raffles was clearly the brains of the outfit.

He spent most of one trip balancing on the back of his seat with his claws buried deep in the headrest the better to stare-out a hapless commuter who was seated behind us. People would say: "Is this your cat?" And I would very proudly explain that he was his own cat "but we have an understanding".

Raffles used to keep me on the strait and narrow. He seemed to have a hard-wired integrity and an iron will. He was something of a mentor. We both put down roots in our little flat in Blackfriars. He made friends with most of our neighbours, and the local feral cats learned not to mess with him. I have been told that he fought off a ferocious dog by clinging to its face like a Giger alien and digging-in his claws until the animal gave up and ran away.

Sometimes I would come home to find a bored pigeon sitting on top of the bathroom door waiting to be released. Raffles must have brought it in alive up two flights of stairs and through the catflap.

One enduring image is the sight of him running and leaping all alone in the centre of Nelson Square surrounded by thousands of autumn leaves swirling in the wind.

Every girlfriend I had in the last nine years still regards herself as "Raffles's mum". He would often follow us when we walked out, and then he would stop at the edge of his territory to greet us when we returned - sometimes hours later. If it was raining he would be sheltering under a parked car until he heard us coming and then he would streak out at us making strange yapping sounds as he led us home.

Raffles having a long stretch on a typical morning.

Every visitor to our home has had him check them out when I answered the door, and often he would walk with them to the street when they left.

I've had to break the news to all of them. My present girlfriend is away in Australia on business and I phoned her on my mobile while I sat beside Raffles's broken corpse in Union Street.

Everybody is being very kind and understanding. I'm still not far from tears. It is taking me a disturbingly long time to get a grip on myself and get on with stuff.

The following quotes are from e/mails of condolence that I have received from friends and family around the world:

"I'm so awfully sorry about Raffles...I know I hardly knew him, but I did like him so much...he was a sweet cat. I also know how you must feel, since I would feel the exact same way about Juli under such circumstances. I really really wish I could be with you; I feel completely useless way down here." - Laura

"I got a mail from Nick (Bugeye) and he told me about your cat Raffles. I'm really sorry to hear the sad news, i could tell how much he meant to you". - Elaine (Squaw)

"Really sorry to hear that Raffles has passed away. I know he was a good friend and companion." - Everton

"I didn't believe it when I heard that Raffles was dead. He was the kind of cat who should have lived for ever. The little white razor blades at the end of his paws. His dark black fur. His deep love for you. His jaunty possession of territory. I feel rather lost. I am so sorry and sad." - Sophy

"Gee Mike I am very sorry. I know what that little fella meant to you. He was a real sweetheart. I shall never forget as long as i live the little gift that he gave to me. The tiny rodent that he brought to me and laid on my pillow. No cat has ever done that before. (except once when Tag put a live cockroach in my lap)

"He was a special little guy and will be missed. I know you don't feel he can ever be replaced. Once you get back from Siam. Get you a little kitten. It won't replace Raffles but you will love it in another way just as much. It will make missing him a bit easier. Raffles would want for you to have another feline companion.

"I am happy that i got to share about 30 days with that kitty. He was a great comfort to me when i was ill last spring. Something about snuggling up to cat and hearing the gentle purr of his engine. Rubbing the little kitty belly. I did cry when i read your email this am" - Liz (Gryphon)

"I am sorry to hear about Raffles. I know you really loved that cat. My heart goes out to you for this loss." - Ta

"We are both very sad to hear about Raffles. It will be very difficult to replace him as he was so intelligent. I know that you will miss him very much." - Geoff Burgess

"Oh heavens. I'm terribly sorry. I remember the acute pain of losing my kitty a few years ago, and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. He sounds like a doll; I wish I'd met him. You seem to be grieving well, though, and it will get better. Promise." - Nineve

"Nineve told me last night that your cat Raffles had died, so I thought I would send this little email of condolences, as i knew how close you two were, and because i too have a cat and know what it's like. the way his antics would always always end up included in conversations on irc is unforgettable. I'm sure you miss him, and i was saddened to hear of this news. If there were anything I could do to soothe the pain of you loss, I would, but for now, i hope my sympathies at least let you know that I'm thinking of you. My sincerest sympathies." - Bob Vallier (Squishy)

"I offer my sincere condolences, he was such as nice cat. Didn't have an aggressive bone in his body and will be missed :( I just hope wherever he is now, there are loads of laser pointers for him to play with. Indeed tragic news." - Paul Ross

"I'm so sorry to hear of Raffles' demise. You must have been one hell of a companion, cos from what I know of cats, they get more attached to places than people, and it sounds like you did some pretty impressive travelling in your time. We used to have a ginger tom, Tigger, who was great at appearing sullen & curmudgeonly until you got to know him. Then he was a babe full of the joys of spring. One day, Alice got home to find him stuck up a tree, so she lifted up her briefcase like a platform, & he graciously accepted the elevator down... Cats never really go away.

'We are the cats inside. We are the cats who cannot walk alone, and for us there is only one place." - W. S. Burroughs

"Wait around, and another cat will find you." - Ray Hogan

"So sorry to hear about Raffles. It is so hard to lose a loved animal, and it sounds as if he was in an accident. Our Pashua (great intelligent Burmese) died a year ago last November at age 19 1/2 and we miss him very much. And my foolish little Jazzy cat (Siamese half-breed) who is so loving and so sensitive is almost 17, and I dread the day her health fails -- so I know so well how you feel. Take care of yourself; and remember what a fine cat was Messr. Raffles. He entertained us on many occasion on #Truth amidst all those conversations whereby Raffles was far more important than the conversation." - Jenny (ladeyj)

"Liz told me about the sad news last night. I remember chatting about our cats in the past. We both have a unique understanding of companionship. I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your loss. Happydog sent me your tribute to Raffles. I am sure that Raffles is smiling like a Cheshire kitty, somewhere- Take care. I miss chatting with you on EFnet." - Rikstafer

"I am so sorry for your loss of Raffles. I'm pretty much a dog person, but I was a cat person before I got married. The cat that I had at that time I thought was absolutely amazing and unique. But your stories of Raffles well surpass what I thought was amazing. My heart cries for you." - Donna

"Even though I've never met Raffles, it sounds like he was an absolutely wonderful cat and I feel a great loss for never having met him. I'm so sorry for the emptiness that you must be feeling. I know it's hard to believe it now, but there will come a time when the tears won't be threatening to break every moment, and the thought of his escapades will make you laugh out loud." - Heidi

© Michael Burgess 1998