In Memory of Mr. Henry Tilney, Apr. 7, 2008 - Dec. 31, 2008

We made it almost a full year before losing another cat. This time Mr. Henry Tilney was not cautious enough crossing the road, and died shortly before noon on December 31. Our last loss was Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, who met a similar fate early on the morning of January 1, 2008. Tilney showed less fear and skittishness than the other two cats in most situations, and that trait ultimately betrayed him. We've included a few photos here to chronicle the short life of a unique pet.


Here's Tilney shortly after he joined us in June. Although kinda scrawny at the time, he was bigger than his cousin, Mr. George Knightley, who joined us at the same time.

That's Knightley playing with Tilney's tail. By this fall Knightley had grown larger than Tilney, although Tilney had in turn grown larger than our third cat, Mr. Charles Bingley.

Looking particularly cute peering over Gretel's shoulder.

Any cat at our house is subject to the will of Gretel, including Tilney. We're not sure if the cats enjoyed the ribbons, but they definitely didn't like the basket. Notice the absence of relaxed postures and purring.

The kitties were pampered with a blanket spread on the deck most days last summer, and they enjoyed many naps in the comfort of the hackberry tree.

Tilney and Knightley enjoying each other's company.

Mr. T was generally happy to be held and the least skittish of the cats. Hey! What's that cat doing in the house?!

You've seen this image before, but it accurately represents the relationship the cats enjoyed this fall and winter. Mr. T was the last to pile on in this pose, and the others were happy to let him join the fun.

Mr. Tilney was the first of the cats to feel comfortable in Gretel's new "walking jacket."

Tilney was the best climber of all the cats, although this ladder is a minor feat for this cat. Tilney would regularly climb the trees in the yard as if hunting for birds or just looking over his domain. He was a bit cruel in that he would coax the other cats into the trees, run from branch to branch while they plodded along carefully behind him, and then leap to the ground and run away while the others were still high in the tree wondering how to get down.

This is our last photo of Mr. Tilney as he explores in the upstairs of the barn on a blurry day. Like any of the other cats, we miss Mr. T already, although as one of our family commented on the day of his passing, "At least it was the stinky one that died." On this blog, even epitaphs tell it like it is.