The Bond with Silver: Jeanette Winterson's Unforgettable Cat

A Fateful Meeting

Susan Hill, a woman in black, introduced me to Silver. I already had three cats at that time, but when I laid my eyes on this small scrumble of tarnished silver fur with bright blue eyes, I couldn't resist. Silver was only five weeks old, too young to leave her mother, but circumstances forced her to find a new home.

As someone who was adopted, I understood what it felt like leaving your mother too soon. So, without hesitation, I welcomed Silver into my life.

An Extraordinary Companion

From the start, Silver stood out as the brightest cat I had ever known. She quickly learned to respond to my calls, joining me in the studio for our daily work.

Silver had an affinity for reading and writing. She would often curl up on open books, seemingly absorbing their contents. She even found joy in using my sheets of paper as makeshift sledges, sliding them across the floor. Sometimes, she would even tap the computer screen with her paw, playfully interrupting my writing. Her mischievous presence always brought a sense of delight.

Adventures and Farewells

As a young cat, Silver loved chasing balls. I would take her out in the garden, throwing the ball in a direction that required her to leap over flowers. Her acrobatic stunts always amazed me, and she would proudly return with the ball in her mouth.

As time went on, Silver grew older and we traveled less. She found comfort near the wood-burning stove and enjoyed the snow, chasing snowballs with enthusiasm. Eventually, I knew our time together was coming to an end. With a heavy heart, I made the painful decision to let her go.

The vet came to the house, and in that moment, I had to hold Silver as she was peacefully injected. It was a bittersweet farewell, but I wanted her to be laid to rest near the studio where we had spent countless hours together. Her memory continues to live on in the garden, marked by the first daffodil that bloomed by her grave.