English Chess Forum

Bob Wade's old cat Charles II ("Charlie") passed away today, great of years.

I'm sorry to hear that.

Not many people would know that. Did you look after the cat Paul ?

How old was Charlie? Maybe this should go in the obituaries section out of respect.

I don't know if that was tongue in cheek, Joey, but I would support it!
Bob Wade was the kindest and best of men and deserves at least two obituaries. I see his enthusiastic grin yet.

Are RGWs ashes still residing on a well known players mantelpiece?

Paul McKeown wrote:Bob Wade's old cat Charles II ("Charlie") passed away today, great of years.

Paul, a sad day. I also have an elderly cat called Charlie who runs our lives. She is perfectly capable of using the catflap when no-one is in but if anyone is in the house, she makes a horrible noise until someone lets her out the front door. Pet owners will know exactly what I mean - those who don't just won't understand why I get out of bed at 03.00 to let her out when we have a perfectly functioning catflap.

It was also good to get a reminder of Bob, one of the nicest guys in English chess - much missed.

Thanks to everyone for their kind wishes. If Carl wished to move this thread to the obits section, I wouldn't mind. I placed the notice here, as I thought some might be offended if I placed it under obits. To answer Gordon's question, yes I took in the cat after Bob's death, as no one nearer was willing to do so. The age of the cat is unknown. What we do know is that when Bob's previous cat, Charles I, died, he asked various cat homes for a replacement, but he was rebuffed wherever he went, as he was too old and might leave a rehomed cat with another need to be rehomed. In the end, after considerable persistence, he was given an already aged cat, Charles II. Bob died six years ago. We asked the cat home for information about Charlie, but they wouldn't give us any information unless they were instructed by Bob's executors. We asked the executors, but heard nothing. Our local vet estimated that Charlie was at least thirteen at the time. That would have made him nineteen or more at the time of his death. It took Charlie quite some time to get used to living in a house with a dog, but that same dog slept every night in Charlie's last week by his side, licking his face as if he were a sick pup. (Dogs, cats and, no doubt, other mammals besides, are much more intelligent and aware than society allows.) Charlie's absence is felt here, by Philomena, myself and Penny, our little Jack Russell.