Burmilla Cat Club
Mistoffelees the Magical Cat
Mistoffelees, or Stoffi as we called him died peacefully of organ failure on Monday.
It was a sad, sad day for all of us. Owners, breeders,(Charles and Therese Clarke) friends and neighbours who have come to know and love him.
He was aptly named The Magical Mr. Mistoffellees. He was never your average cat. There was always another dimension to his personality and although he was loving and great fun, he had a very private side.
For those of you who read Mistoffelees’ Diary in the BCC Mews, you will have an idea of his character. I didn’t have to make these stories up. All of them happened to a lesser or greater extent.
He was expressive in communication and although he had the typical Burmilla voice, his private way of talking to me was through his tail. It was an uncharacteristically thick tail and he used it to show all sorts of moods. If I spoke to him the tail would thump in reply. It always happened so we knew this was his talking mode.He loved to be held upside down and rocked in time to music and he would stay like this for ten
minutes at a time eyes half closed in blissful relaxation.
He climbed trees for the sheer exuberance of being alive although he was always better going up than coming down and the odd rescue attempt had to be made. He had the cat's need to know what was above him!
His adventurous spirit got him into all sorts of trouble and in March he dived through our neighbour’s cat flap while they were away and found himself locked in. There he stayed for four days until they returned. This was to be one of his last adventures. However nothing kept him down for long.
He was a prodigious hunter and yet when we had a racing pigeon who came to rest here, Stoffi didn’t kill it. Somehow he sensed it was exhausted and not a prey opportunity. And when our red partridge mother brought her nine chicks to show us, Stoffi looked longingly but didn’t attack.
He was surely the Magical Mr Mistoffelees. There will never be another like him. He has been a joy and a wonder to us for all of his life. We will miss him sorely.
Pastel by Carol Bryant
To open the diary click the padlock
We will be posting all of Stoffi’s Diarys by kind permission of Carol Bryant continuing with number 2 on the first of December
Premier Kartush Sebnut
known to his many friends and admirers as Mistoffelees
6th April 2001 to 11th August 2014
bred by Therese and Charles Clarke
The magical Mr Mistoffelees
The naming of catsIt isn't just one of your holiday games;
You may think at first I'm as mad as a hatter
When I tell you, a cat must have three different names
First of all, there's the name that the family use daily,
Such as Peter, Augustus, Alonzo or James,
Such as Victor or Jonathan, George or Bill Bailey--
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Plato, Admetus, Electra, Demeter--
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a cat needs a name that's particular,
A name that's peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his tail perpendicular,
Or spread out his whiskers, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Munkustrap, Quaxo, or Coricopat,
Such as Bombalurina, or else Jellylorum,-
Names that never belong to more than one cat.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover--
But the cat himself knows, and will never confess.
When you notice a cat in profound meditation,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Deep and inscrutable singular Name.
Click on the padlock to open his diary
By TS Elliott