Barnaby didn't come home on Thursday night and it was totally out of character. I walked around his usual haunts. Up again at 7.45 on Friday to look for him and at 1.30pm when I came home from work - nothing. I later on went around the houses asking if anyone had seen him - nothing. This morning at 8 I had a telephone call from a lady who lives around the corner to say she could see him and he looked injured. I went to where he was and he was dead but he had been horribly mauled probably by a fox. It is tormenting me that he could have crawled away after being injured by a car and a fox killed him and I didn't get to him in time because his little body was still pliable. I buried him in the garden and when I came home an hour ago, someone has put a red rose on his grave. His brother Troy is missing him and I am crying as I write this.
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