Sad to announce that our beloved pet, family member, my buddy, and all-round epic furry adventurer Charlie, has signed off from duty for the last time.

A rescue cat, he was picked up from Celia Hammond Trust in Lewisham in early 2009. We estimated that he was about four months old at the time so we set his date of birth at 22 November 2008. He almost made it to 18.

The good people at Celia Hammond described him as a gentleman and – so long as you weren’t one of the mice, rats, squirrels, bats or magpies he dutifully fetched for us – you would have to agree.

He’s been a constant in Henry’s life since 2012. I know this is probably a universal sentiment among people who have lost a pet but losing Charlie has hit us all very hard. He’s the only non-hamster pet I’ve lost since I was a toddler myself.

He was a happy soul, full of energy and with the loudest purr I have ever encountered; a purr triggered as soon as a he eagerly hopped up onto a knee. He always gave the impression he was living a good life even when he started declining. Back in November 2025 he had an unexplained seizure which caused him to lose his sight. Despite being blind he was still able to navigate his way outside and (apart from one misadventure that led to me finding him on Facebook) back inside to the sofa to curl up and have a nap. He always loved human company and he and I developed a very close bond on some kind of spiritual mammal-to-mammal level.

In the early hours of 9 September he popped outside for one last adventure and just 20 minutes later he died quite suddenly on the sofa. Honestly I can’t think of a better way for him to have gone.

He is survived by our other cat George (she/her) who, frankly, never saw eye to eye with Charlie. But now that he’s gone it’s obvious that she misses him. She no longer has anyone to bash out of the way at the food bowl. George turned 18 in July.

Farewell Charlie, you magnificent creature 💔