...I must tell you that Willy is breathing his last.
He has been starting to grow on me over the last couple of weeks. He ran away that first weekend, but surprisingly, I was happy to have him return. And since then he has been trying hard to convince me that he is worthy of exploring the entire house. I haven't been letting him inside cuz there are some expats who don't like cats or have allergies. But last night I was starting to realize that it was becoming more and more difficult to restrict him to the outdoors.
I had a nice evening with him. I spent some time sitting out front chatting with Cyr, the guard, while Willy snuggled on my lap. But this morning I thought it was a bit odd that I didn't hear him meowing while I was doing yoga.
Then in the car on the way home for lunch, Roger, the driver, asked if it was true that Willy was dead?!?!
WHAT?!
When we arrived at the house I learned that Willy hasn't been well since this morning. The guards think it was probably something he ate while roaming about the neighborhood last night. There are stories that the neighbours leave out tainted fish to rid the area of too many cats.
So I don't expect him to still be around when I get home tonight.
That was short.
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