Last rites for a very special bird killer

It was a miserable deed but it had to be done. Yesterday morning, I dug a grave for my old feline friend.

Fred was a ginger cat, one of a litter of eight adorable little bird-killers that we first met when they were only a few days old. We had booked a night in a bed and breakfast on the way back from a buckets and spades holiday in Cornwall. The room was under a thatched roof in a working farm in beautiful Tarka the Otter countryside in north Devon. Drawn by the smell of frying bacon, the famil...