Lucy was born on May 13th 1991 to an anonymous mother and father whose harsh life at a dump somewhere near London led her to fend for herself until she was found by a kind soul who entrusted her to the Blue Cross. In the summer of 1991, we picked her out of a roomful of kittens. None had such beautiful long whiskers as Lucy. I suspect she had grown her adult length whiskers by the age of 6 weeks, and never grew them any longer.

Lucy lived a comfortable life amongst the suburban gardens of Bourne End, stalking the native wildlife and bringing trophies of such to her adopted parents as tokens of love in return for regular food and cuddles.

Before the age of 3 she moved a hundred miles south to Broadstone and took ownership of a bigger garden packed with even more wildlife. She learnt the routes around the house inside out, pioneering the climb up the pyracantha to the balcony and wearing game-trails round the borders with her partners in crime, the local foxes.

The double-radiators in the new house were her favourite nesting spot when a convenient towel was placed on top, though she'd happily sit in seemingly random spots on the floor which we later discovered to be the location of the hot water pipes.

At the age of 8, she undertook the greatest journey of her life, and one which few of her kind have ever achieved. After a traumatic 13-hour flight to Brazil, she arrived at her new home in Rio de Janeiro. Though shaken, she was strong, and quickly adopted the house as her own. A whole new animal ecosystem was hers to plunder, though she paid it more respect and often preferred to stay indoors indulging in her newfound pastime of smelling fresh flowers.

Ralph the giant lab soon arrived, although he wasn't so giant when Lucy first met him - a fact she took advantage of to swipe him on the nose and establish her lifelong dominance over him. Though easily 15 times her weight, her sharp claws and serpentine hiss kept him at a safe distance.

The much-travelled Lucy made her final journey in 2003 from the house to an apartment, where she stayed for the rest of her life, 16 storeys above the ground. Her long life, many accomplishments and queenly status freed her to reflect on her humble beginnings. She was now happy to lounge on the many sofas that dotted the warm, sunny living room, and to stare down at the city from a great height. On December 14th 2006, she started to move slowly from chair to chair, and at about 7pm, just before sunset, she stopped.