A guest post today. My colleague Amanda has kindly sent me a picture of her cat Gemma, who sadly died very recently. She has also written a very loving epitaph:

Gemma

May 15th 1992-September 1st 2013

My grande dame, my prima donna, my Gem-squash. If Elizabeth Taylor had been a cat, this is the cat she would have been. Gemma was rehomed with me when she was 4 and never lost her East Midlands accent despite a couple of years in Sussex and fifteen on Teesside, but usually she got what she wanted with a look anyway. For the past couple of years we battled kidney and thyroid problems, but she still ruled the house from her cushion in front of the fire, and let me know when she wanted a midnight snack by jumping on my pillow and bunting my face. We had a good run, baby girl.