We never knew how much (or how little) sight Pascha had, but two things were for certain – first, he knew no different and lived life to the full, and second, he really disliked the twice-daily routine of eye-cleaning followed by eyedrops.

Following the loss of Pascal (and so many others) with the virus that hit that summer, the dynamic of the garden had changed somewhat and it was in the autumn that Pascha found a new friend in Sherpa, the last remaining kitten of Dawn’s litter (who I had taken from Dawn and placed with Cheese when it was obvious that Dawn was not giving him the mothering he needed).

Little Sherpa lived up to his name and, despite being so much smaller than Pascha, became his guide and playmate. These photos of Pascha playing with Sherpa are from the four months after Pascal passed away; of course Pascha had no idea that the world which other cats saw was any different to his and, growing as he was into a big, strong cat, he was living to the full.

Here, the deadly duo was contemplating jumping up into a plant trough, probably with the murder of some greenery in mind. There was no point in being too precious about plants as there was a certain inevitability that the cats would lie in them, use them as toilets, chew them, and generally flatten them beyond recognition. It really didn’t matter too much – the cats were just busy doing cattish stuff.

Sherpa was a little older in this photo where he and Pascha were tussling on the water tank under the olive tree. Pascha was really big for his age, strong and powerful, and Sherpa was fast and nimble. They learnt a lot from each other.

And a month or two later and Sherpa was growing well. In this photo, he and Pascha had stolen a glove on the feeding station; my gloves were highly prized, and Sherpa knew better than to try and take one from under Pascha’s nose – that would not have been wise as, once Pascha had his teeth and claws in them, it was almost impossible to get them back.

And so the unlikely duo bonded. Pascha had lost Pascal, and Sherpa had lost litter-mates Bechers, Fosbury and Scruffy; they were both solitary young cats with bright futures ahead.