Sadly, Victor died late on Sunday 23rd February.

He had shown signs of respiratory infection on Friday, but there were also other concerns, including teeth and the lumps which had formed along the line of his melanoma removal before Christmas. After X-ray, our vet Rebekah was also concerned about the worsening of his arthritis, which he had when he was only one year old. That could well have been the cause of his triple rehoming in his first eight months, before he came to me, with Pippin, in May 22.

He had remained wobbly on his back legs after the anaesthetic on Friday, but had a cocktail of meds, plus 4-hourly feeds (which he mostly refused). Rather than leave him in the vet care with a 50:50 chance of making it overnight, I brought him home to give him an equal chance, maybe not with expert nursing, but with all his home comforts. He gave me two mornings with the pleasant surprise of finding him still with us, but passed while cuddling me on the famous red towel, after his evening feed and meds, enjoying life as only he could.

Victor was a wonderful, cheeky chap, with his own views on life and how things should be done. The fact that he looked like a merger of Fred and George was irrelevant.