So today, Miss AMP’s cat, Katrina Payne, went to the great cattery in the sky, aged 18 human years. Since Amp moved into a non-cat flat, earlier this year, Joe, Emma and I were Katrina’s main carers and warm laps, and we miss her very much.

It’s funny how we all miss her so. I have shared a house with Katrina the cat since early 2004 (having met her a few years previous to that), but Joe and Emma only met her recently. She wasn’t a cute kitten. Most of the time she was a mad old smelly noisy murderous bundle of black and white fur and scary claws. But she had an enormous capacity for affection and no sense of decorum whatsoever, and that made her cute and awesome right up until her most geriatric phase.

I think Katrina was born in Kent, but mostly lived in London. She was a pioneer of the Shoreditch Twat movement, living in fashionable Brick Lane in the late 90s, where she scandalised dinner parties by running around the live-work space with half-dead rats clamped between her jaws. She moved to Hackney a few years later, and lived with a cat called Foot Foot. They had lots of fights, but eventually got along. She spent her last few years living with me and Miss AMP, and then with her official favourite man Joe, with whom she formed a weird and instant bond. She also became special friends with Emma, who gave her lots of soft food and hugs towards the end.

Katrina especially loved boys, and people with allergies to her (in that order). Boys with allergies were even better - those who dared to come round to visit would find Katrina canoodling with them before they’d even had chance to sneeze. She appeared numerous times on the Flickr group entitled Indie Rock Boys With Cats, and could often be found sitting upon the chests of unsuspecting gentleman callers, stretching one paw out in a lascivious manner and yowling seductively into their faces.
When not trying to steal our male friends, she liked to catch rats, rip their heads off, and leave the heads at the bottom of the stairs as a present, with the bodies a few feet away. Like most cats, she also liked listening to Kraftwerk, putting her head into pint glasses and milk jugs, and nesting in piles of A4 paper. Unlike many cats, she enjoyed the sound of the violin, and also slide guitar, harmonium and musical saw.

She had gorgeous white paws and a white tip on her tail and a really fluffy belly. Coming back from work today and hearing neither her claws clumping down the stairs nor her querulous little ‘feed me!’ voice made me feel empty and sad.

Here is a photo of her and Miss AMP, her proud owner and best human friend.