Monette, the ungovernable French cat, is no more. RIP

My favourite photo of Monette, still a kitten, nestling on the mess that constituted my desktop in Paris

 

She took her name from her birthplace, a restaurant used by visitors to Giverny, home of the French impressionist Claude Monet, west of Paris, and of the water lilies he famously and beautifully painted. Monet died there in 1926, aged 86. Monette - her name was simply feminised - died in the less elegant setting of a vet's surgery in Whitton, not far from Heathrow, at sometime between Thursday evening and Friday morning. She would have been 16 in July, not a bad age for a cat though every member of the family is devastated by her loss.

Monette became the fourth of our family cats soon after Mme Salut and I moved to Paris in 2004. We had no intention of acquiring another but, on that day, this kitten only days old was making herself known around our feet as we ate following our visit to the house and gardens. And she was adorable. Joelle asked if they had one from the litter for sale and the waitress, after consulting la patronne, said: "Take her if you want."

The story is better told in an abandoned book project dating from 10 years ago. I shall repeat that below. The book idea - in the form of a feline autobiography - never got beyond this opening chapter after friends who know about such things said it had been done before and wasn't worth the effort.

But I am glad now that I wrote it. There would have been a later chapter about why I described her as Monette the ungovernable French cat (it was at one of those times when the French were showing themselves to be pretty ungovernable). 

Monette lived in Giverny, Paris, the south of France, London and Abu Dhabi. She died, I hope, in whatever knowledge cats have that she'd led a good and longish life and was a cherished pet, lovingly cared for in her last few days by our younger daughter Nathalie and granddaughter Maya. RIP.

One of the last photos I took of Monette, just three weeks ago 

Monette by Monette (as told to M Salut  ....)

 

Giverny: summer, 2004 There must be more to life than this! Stuck here with eight brothers and sisters competing for the measly food they serve us. I mean, the place is nice enough; you see lots of humans passing by, coming and going.

Not sure why they all come. I heard something about the house and gardens of Monet being across the road and that he was a famous painter, but it doesn't mean much to me.

But what I do know is this. When they come in here, it's not to eat the bowls of leftovers we have to make do with. Or the occasional croquettes if the humans who run the place are feeling especially generous. I wasn't born yesterday - well actually it was a few days before yesterday - so I know well enough that they come in for real food: meat and fish. I'm going in there to explore.

These people look a good bet. There's four of them and I can smell a cat on the trousers of one of them. OK, not a cat but cat smells. Let's sniff a bit round their feet, look sweetly up to them and miaow and purr a bit and see what happens.

That's better! A scrap of meat. Could have done without it being hot, but you can't have everything. And I'm none too sure about the gooey stuff, sauce I think they call it, that I've got to lick off before I can get my teeth into it.

Uh oh! One morsel of food and they already think they've got me eating out of their hands. Well, I suppose in one way they have. But come on folks. It's all very well cooing away at me, but I need a bit more of what's on your plates before you can expect me to rub my cheek affectionately against you and allow myself to be picked up and caressed.

It worked. Just a bit of distance, a hint that I might be off to the next table and there's more food dropping at my paws.

Did I hear that right? Did one of the female humans just say I'm so adorable she could take me home? Who does she think she is? I'm not here to be bought and sold or, worse, cast off for free. But it's true. She did say that. Oh, that's OK. the male human with her is saying no, can't possibly happen. He's bound to the be the boss so everything will be all right. But he's relenting. He realises she's serious. Oh no! One of the people in charge of the restaurant just said: "You love her? Take her. There's plenty more."

So that's all I matter to them. I might as well go then. I just won't make it look as if I'm a pushover. I might even have a wee in that cardboard box they're preparing for the humans to take me away in. That'll show 'em who's in charge around here.

What's this? It's like a little house, with some seats at the front and some more at the back and windows all around. Except that it's got wheels underneath and makes a noise when the male human I wrongly thought was the female's boss sticks a key into a little hole and turns it. Whoaaa ... I think we're moving. We are! And it's getting faster. I might not just wee but be sick in a moment. But no, that wouldn't go down too well. I'd better play my cards right here, swing them along until I get the chance to escape.

Now we're stopping. There are lots of other little houses on wheels - OK, I know they're called cars now because I heard one of them saying something about not stopping too close to the next car. Now they've gone! I'm stuck in this this car and I'm also stuck in this, this cardboard box. I've tried scratching at it with my little kitten claws and nothing happens. I'll never get out. I've been abandoned. Miaow. It's gone all quiet. I'm going to go to sleep and try to dream up a plan.

They're back! I heard footsteps, then the sound of voices and something opening at the back. Something about "put it all in the boot". I thought boots were like big shoes but no, this one is like a cupboard at the back of the car. I cannot see anything now because the lid has been pulled up and there's only a little hole in any case for me to peek out of this blasted cardboard box. But they're putting an awful lot of stuff in there, whatever it is.

Oh, I realise now that we've started moving again. They've been in something called a supermarket buying lots of those things posh cats have, and are talking about what they've got. A basket to sleep in - the cheek; I'll find my own places for that. Some boxes of food especially for kittens; a tray and something they call litter. What's that for? And some silly little things that rattle or smell of something - is it cheese, or fish or mice? - and are called toys. Where are they taking me? A kitten prison? I heard something about Paree - well, male human said Paris but I'm sure female human said Paree - but have no idea what they mean.

Now we've come to a halt again. I heard some great big doors opening and we've gone inside, through a tunnel to the back. And now they've lifted my box out of the car. I'm going to be set free! No I'm not. They're taking me indoors. We're going upwards in a sort of cage that clangs a lot, And they've brought in all those things they bought earlier. Now we're on a landing. I can see there's some sky outside but we're going through another door.

I heard one of them say something a flat. Whatever a flat is, that's where they've taken me.

Now I'm in the female human's arms. She's giving me a sort of tour of this FLAT. There's a great big window in the first room and you look out and see a park with a pond and what looks like a river beyond it. And lots of cars and buses and lorries and motorbikes going past a long way straight down. There's also a big building I heard someone call the Louvre and that the big heap of metal to the right is the Tour Eiffel. If words like that are a mystery to me, what am I supposed to make of the Seine and the Tuileries, which are apparently the river and park with a pond you see from the window? And why do they keep saying I should appreciate the view?

Ah but this is better. There's a great long corridor, loads of other rooms and millions of hiding places. I'll play along with the humans for now. Not too affectionate, but enough to stop them just getting rid of me. Somewhere else might be worse than this after all. You know, I might even get to like it here whatever it's called: Paris or Paree. It's typical, you know. I was just getting to know French and now I've been whisked off to somewhere where they speak in another language.

To be continued?

 

 

 

One of the last photos I took of Monette, just three weeks ago 

Monette by Monette (as told to M Salut  ....)

 

Giverny: summer, 2004 There must be more to life than this! Stuck here with eight brothers and sisters competing for the measly food they serve us. I mean, the place is nice enough; you see lots of humans passing by, coming and going.

Not sure why they all come. I heard something about the house and gardens of Monet being across the road and that he was a famous painter, but it doesn't mean much to me.

But what I do know is this. When they come in here, it's not to eat the bowls of leftovers we have to make do with. Or the occasional croquettes if the humans who run the place are feeling especially generous. I wasn't born yesterday - well actually it was a few days before yesterday - so I know well enough that they come in for real food: meat and fish. I'm going in there to explore.

These people look a good bet. There's four of them and I can smell a cat on the trousers of one of them. OK, not a cat but cat smells. Let's sniff a bit round their feet, look sweetly up to them and miaow and purr a bit and see what happens.

That's better! A scrap of meat. Could have done without it being hot, but you can't have everything. And I'm none too sure about the gooey stuff, sauce I think they call it, that I've got to lick off before I can get my teeth into it.

Uh oh! One morsel of food and they already think they've got me eating out of their hands. Well, I suppose in one way they have. But come on folks. It's all very well cooing away at me, but I need a bit more of what's on your plates before you can expect me to rub my cheek affectionately against you and allow myself to be picked up and caressed.

It worked. Just a bit of distance, a hint that I might be off to the next table and there's more food dropping at my paws.

Did I hear that right? Did one of the female humans just say I'm so adorable she could take me home? Who does she think she is? I'm not here to be bought and sold or, worse, cast off for free. But it's true. She did say that. Oh, that's OK. the male human with her is saying no, can't possibly happen. He's bound to the be the boss so everything will be all right. But he's relenting. He realises she's serious. Oh no! One of the people in charge of the restaurant just said: "You love her? Take her. There's plenty more."

So that's all I matter to them. I might as well go then. I just won't make it look as if I'm a pushover. I might even have a wee in that cardboard box they're preparing for the humans to take me away in. That'll show 'em who's in charge around here.

What's this? It's like a little house, with some seats at the front and some more at the back and windows all around. Except that it's got wheels underneath and makes a noise when the male human I wrongly thought was the female's boss sticks a key into a little hole and turns it. Whoaaa ... I think we're moving. We are! And it's getting faster. I might not just wee but be sick in a moment. But no, that wouldn't go down too well. I'd better play my cards right here, swing them along until I get the chance to escape.

Now we're stopping. There are lots of other little houses on wheels - OK, I know they're called cars now because I heard one of them saying something about not stopping too close to the next car. Now they've gone! I'm stuck in this this car and I'm also stuck in this, this cardboard box. I've tried scratching at it with my little kitten claws and nothing happens. I'll never get out. I've been abandoned. Miaow. It's gone all quiet. I'm going to go to sleep and try to dream up a plan.

They're back! I heard footsteps, then the sound of voices and something opening at the back. Something about "put it all in the boot". I thought boots were like big shoes but no, this one is like a cupboard at the back of the car. I cannot see anything now because the lid has been pulled up and there's only a little hole in any case for me to peek out of this blasted cardboard box. But they're putting an awful lot of stuff in there, whatever it is.

Oh, I realise now that we've started moving again. They've been in something called a supermarket buying lots of those things posh cats have, and are talking about what they've got. A basket to sleep in - the cheek; I'll find my own places for that. Some boxes of food especially for kittens; a tray and something they call litter. What's that for? And some silly little things that rattle or smell of something - is it cheese, or fish or mice? - and are called toys. Where are they taking me? A kitten prison? I heard something about Paree - well, male human said Paris but I'm sure female human said Paree - but have no idea what they mean.

Now we've come to a halt again. I heard some great big doors opening and we've gone inside, through a tunnel to the back. And now they've lifted my box out of the car. I'm going to be set free! No I'm not. They're taking me indoors. We're going upwards in a sort of cage that clangs a lot, And they've brought in all those things they bought earlier. Now we're on a landing. I can see there's some sky outside but we're going through another door.

I heard one of them say something a flat. Whatever a flat is, that's where they've taken me.

Now I'm in the female human's arms. She's giving me a sort of tour of this FLAT. There's a great big window in the first room and you look out and see a park with a pond and what looks like a river beyond it. And lots of cars and buses and lorries and motorbikes going past a long way straight down. There's also a big building I heard someone call the Louvre and that the big heap of metal to the right is the Tour Eiffel. If words like that are a mystery to me, what am I supposed to make of the Seine and the Tuileries, which are apparently the river and park with a pond you see from the window? And why do they keep saying I should appreciate the view?

Ah but this is better. There's a great long corridor, loads of other rooms and millions of hiding places. I'll play along with the humans for now. Not too affectionate, but enough to stop them just getting rid of me. Somewhere else might be worse than this after all. You know, I might even get to like it here whatever it's called: Paris or Paree. It's typical, you know. I was just getting to know French and now I've been whisked off to somewhere where they speak in another language.

To be continued?