A 14-Year-Old Convalescent Cat in the Winter Gavin Ewart (1990) I want him to have another living summer to lie in the sun and enjoy the douceur de vivre because the sun, like golden rum in a rummer, is what makes an idle cat un tout petit peu ivre – I want him to lie stretched out, contented, revelling in the heat, his fur all dry and warm, an Old Age Pensioner, retired, resented by no one, and happinesses in a beelike swarm to settle on him – postponed for another season that last fated hateful journey to the vet from which there is no return (and age the reason), which must soon come – as I cannot forget. --

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