I had cats before we came to live in North London 33 years ago, but the only vet I remember is Mrs Hill. She was the kindest, gentlest, most sensitive cat lover and vet ever. It feels beyond belief to have to think I and my cats will never see her again. The last time I saw her was in July this year when she needed to put my beloved little grey cat, Indie, to sleep. Without a moment's hesitation, in the middle of the pandemic, she agreed to come and do this in my garden, because I said I couldn't bear to bring Indie to the surgery. And she did it in the most tender, gentle and loving way possible. Then, when she came out of hospital and had to relearn to walk, she phoned me out of the blue, and to my delight, ostensibly to talk about my cat's arthritis. She gave me sensible advice about my new half-Bengal kittens too and arranged for me to check in with her over the phone the following week. "Oh my god!" were her first words when she heard my kittens were half-Bengal! "Why?", I innocently enquired and she tactfully explained that they were very demanding of human attention. I've often thought since of those words of hers, and how very right she was! I shall miss her more than I can ever express.
My heart goes out to her family- it's lovely to see all the photos of her with them here- and to all the staff at her practice, whom I felt were her second family. She leaves a huge hole. Thank you, Mrs Hill, for everything- for all your care over so many years, and for the legacy you have left.