09 September 2025•5 min read
A tribute to a sleek, royal, roast-chicken-sniffing work companion who stole our hearts.
Mr Black: More than Just a Cat
Mr Black wasn’t just a cat—he was a neighbourhood celebrity, a pillow thief, a holiday fashion icon, and my son’s most loyal companion through life’s biggest chapters. His recent passing leaves a cat-shaped hole in not just our family, but an entire community of neighbours who welcomed him into their homes and hearts.
He came into my eldest son’s life already an adult, full of opinions and character, and already quite sure of his place in the world. Their connection transcended the typical pet-owner relationship. Through teenage years into adulthood, across major milestones and quiet everyday moments, Mr Black’s steady presence provided both comfort and continuity. Their bond evolved into a partnership of mutual understanding and unwavering loyalty.
The Life and Personality of Mr Black
I am not exactly sure how old he truly was, but we believe he may have been close to 20. He certainly lived like an old soul—fiercely independent, incredibly affectionate (on his terms), and very clear about what he liked. In no particular order, these included chicken in all forms, eggs, sneaky bits of bacon from Mumma Chelle, sunny spots, family, and climbing under the doona to escape the cold. He had no body fat and absolutely no tolerance for chilly weather. You’d often walk past a neatly made bed and spot a small bulge under the covers—he’d wriggled his way in, smug and content until we pealed back the covers and exposed him and then we would get his yowl of disapproval.
A Community Fixture
Mr Black’s domain extended far beyond our four walls. Equipped with an AirTag on his collar—a necessity for tracking his social calendar—he made regular rounds to neighbouring homes where he was welcomed as an honoured guest. He wasn’t just my son’s cat; he was a community fixture whose visiting schedule sometimes required GPS tracking to find him. I have started to think that Mr Black didn’t have owners; he had staff across multiple households….
Mr Black shared his presence with the whole family, and often when checking on sleeping children before I went to bed I would discover he had claimed their pillows, with the kids unconsciously adjusting to accommodate his need for comfort. I lost quite a few cushions to over the years as they became Mr Black thrones. There was never any question about who ranked higher in the household hierarchy.
In his later years, Mr Black grew fussier about bedtime. If we were not winding down at a respectable hour, he’d let you know—loudly and try to get you to follow him up to bed. That yowl could cut through walls, and if you came home from the shops with a roast chook, he could smell it before you’d even opened the car door and the noise he could make was phenomenal.
Mr Black the Work Cat
On my work-from-home days, I called him the work cat. He had his own office chair beside mine, complete with a cushion, and would curl up to supervise the day’s tasks. Sometimes silently. Sometimes not. Occasionally, he’d decide to make an appearance during Teams meetings—plonking himself in front of the camera as if to say, “I have something to add here.”
Dress Ups and Showing Off
Despite his generally sleek and royal bearing, Mr Black tolerated—maybe enjoyed—being dressed in Christmas finery. His Christmas outfit still makes me laugh when I look at the photos. The look of disgust is hilarious and yet he allowed it to happen. I have included a photo for you all to enjoy.
Mr Black had a talent for diplomatic relations with the cat-averse. He had a knack for winning over declared non-cat people. His signature move—an endearingly ridiculous butt wiggle while showing off at his scratching post—this was a winner and could convert even the most committed sceptics into devoted admirers.
Saying Goodbye
This week, with love and care, my son and partner made the heart-breaking but loving decision to let him go peacefully. It was time. But that never makes it easier. Saying goodbye to a pet—especially one as full of personality as Mr Black—is a grief that takes time to process.
Pets give us so much. They teach us about loyalty, patience, humour, and the joy of simple rituals. Their passing teaches us about love, grief, and how deeply our hearts can stretch to hold the ones we cherish.
To Mr Black—thank you for being my son’s steadfast companion through life’s most significant chapters. For the meows, the snuggles, the bossy bedtime routines, and the years of devoted company. Thanks for bringing neighbours together through your social rounds and for teaching children that love sometimes means surrendering your pillow. Thanks for showing us that dignity and silly butt wiggles aren’t mutually exclusive.
You weren’t just a cat. You were Mr Black—sleek, royal, demanding, deeply loyal, and irreplaceable. I will smile any time I see a doona skewed and instantly assume it is you underneath it, and I will think of you every time I buy a roast chook.
One of a kind, always and forever.
Love,
Grandma (Mumma Chelle) 💗
If your family is navigating the loss of a beloved pet, My Forever Friend is a beautiful resource. Through soothing verse and beautiful illustrations, it creates a safe space for children to explore their big feelings while gently reminding them that love never truly leaves.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. When you shop through my links, you’re supporting the work I do here at Mumma Chelles. If you are looking for more resources on grief and loss for children please read Parenting Through Grief