JOHN

A few early memories & thoughts.   

Pat was born on Easter Day, 1938, so she & our parents had little time to sort out their lives before the outbreak of the 2nd World War.   

As with many families then, Mum & Dad were reluctant to add to their brood in such uncertain times. As  a result, it was more than 6 years before a sibling arrived, & this gap resulted  in Pat calling me 'little brother' right from the start;  and it stuck!  So when my  wife Sarah & I visited her for the last time, on the day before she died, it was only when I took off my mask & said; 'it's little brother' that I think there was a glimmer of recognition.

Obviously I know little of her early years apart from what she told me later, and I do not intend to go into great chronological details. Rather, I want to recall parts of her young life that made an impression on me & undoubtedly contributed to making her the lady she became.

When I was born Pat was already at Sanderstead County Primary School, now Gresham School, in Limpsfield Road, having earlier attended  a local pre-school called Greenhayes. She clearly loved going to school & wanted to discover whether SHE had the makings of a teacher so was thrilled to have a pupil at hand. I took great pleasure from her willingness to read me bed-time stories and also very much enjoyed her sweet singing voice. She had a vast repertoire of songs from school and favourite hymns many of which she taught me by heart.

Then very subtly, when I was about three, she moved on to more academic areas, deciding that I should master the rudiments of the 3 Rs before I started school.  I do not remember what books we used but she was a natural tutor and as she transferred to Croydon High School in 1949 I started school in Limpsfield Road with a lot of confidence.

Animals were already an important part of Pat's life.  When she was about two she asked for, and was given, a tabby cat who was named Winkle, and once I was of a suitable age she took me on a number of local nature walks, especially up to Riddlesdown, where her knowledge of wildlife was very impressive.  To cap it all, when she was 12 she acquired 2 pet mice who she named "Devil" and "Dusky".

We had both had bad health but Pat's consultant was very concerned that the state of her lungs made it likely that she would contract TB, and he recommended that she should be sent to Switzerland. So it was that in January 1951 the family waved her off from Northolt airport for a 6-month stay in the British children's home in Davos. This was a terrible blow for our parents, financially, and we all missed her very much.  Regular letters from Pat often seemed disjointed but after her return we learned that the owner of the home had been strict to the point of cruelty and all letters out were censored. However the availability of winter sports was some consolation.

While she was away a problem arose when Pat's two mice turned out to be prolific breeders, not the same-sex couple she'd been told!  The adult male started to kill off the youngsters & our local pharmacist kindly arranged gentle euthanasia for all of them. Just before Pat's return in July my mother bought two adult mice, definitely of the same sex, that looked near enough like the original pair!

In 1952, largely at Pat's instigation we acquired a dog 'Nipper', a terrier/sheepdog cross. Mum insisted that we all took our turn at looking after him, including evening walks whatever the weather. 

After Winkle, the tabby, died we acquired two tortoise-shell cats and thereafter the house was never without at least one cat, but then horses loomed large as well.  Pat had read all the 'wish for a pony' type books & had had quite a few riding lessons in Warlingham when young.  After Davos money was tight so she followed the usual path for young girls & put in many hours of work at the stables in return for free rides.  Soon, Pat was involved with a greengrocer's horse in Kenley, taking it back there from overnight tethering in Mitchley Avenue before school & returning it to grazing after school.  A real benefit was the use of "Nobby" at weekends for personal riding - we both became expert at bareback riding! This all had to stop before GCEs but after starting work she bought her own pony, finally fulfilling a dream.

A birthday treat for Pat in the mid-50s was a trip to see 'Cinerama Holiday' about an American couple holidaying in Swizterland & a Swiss couple holidaying in the US. A competition ran with the film and Pat and I won first prize. This led to a free trip to Davos in Summer 1959 which helped Pat to exorcise unhappy memories of the Children's home, and enabled her to show her family all the places she'd been to eight years earlier.

By now Pat was working as a dental nurse / assistant while she decided what she really wanted to do, but after reading adverts in magazines she applied and was accepted for a job as a mother's help in Connecticut in the east of the United States.  She, and an English friend made out there, travelled to Canada and mixed work and pleasure. Her total time in North America was 18 months and she returned a considerably more confident young lady than the girl who had gone away in 1962.

I will not take her life any further than that as Alison and Toby have much to tell you, but as we are in All Saints' which was our family church all the time we were living with our parents, there is one last incident to mention.  On Good Friday one year in the mid / late 1950's, the Rector organized a three-hour devotion, starting at noon.  It was divided into seven segments and the congregation was told emphatically that nobody was expected to stay for the whole time but could leave during any of the hymns.  By then Pat and I had become quite competitive so you can guess the outcome.  Neither of us wished to "crack" so it was a very stiff and sore young couple who staggered out of this lovely building at 3pm.

ALISON

Its so lovely to see so many of you here today.  Along with family, Pat’s friends meant everything to her.  And she had MANY of them.  Which I knew but it really sunk in when I came to call you all to invite you today.  It took me days and days!  But it was also a really lovely experience to hear you talk about my Auntie Pat and to hear the stories about how you met and the good times you had together.  Really each of you should come up here and say your own words.  But I’m going to try to reflect some of what I heard that also chimed with the aunt who I knew and loved.

I think the thing I heard most when people summed Pat up was what a strong and independent woman she was – and how so many of us found that truly inspirational.  She had some strong views and deeply held principles which she lived her life by, but within that context, she did what she wanted.  I was delighted to hear one of you say how much you admired her as the first woman you knew to have her own mortgage.  That rings very true as the fearless aunt I looked up to.  A phrase I heard that I particularly liked was that she lived life on her own terms.  Though of course that didn’t mean she was selfish.  The opposite in fact.    She was generous to a fault, giving regularly to numerous charities, as well as always wanting to spend money on those she loved.  I think many of us have been in the position of trying to force money back on Pat and it was pretty impossible.  And of course if you showed her the smallest kindness she went out of her way to thank you in return.  I know of several instances of neighbours and friends going out for her in the winter to save her a journey only to see her later on, fighting her way through an icy blast, to pop a thank you note – and probably £5 – through their door in return.

And of course some of those she helped most were our four-legged, or two-winged, friends.  I’m sure almost everyone here had a cat-connection with Pat, either through the Cats Protection League or because she homed a cat with you. And of course it was all her tireless work in this area that earned Pat her MBE.  I remember so clearly that amazing day at Buckingham Palace.  Even Auntie Pat, who could be very nonchalant about many things, was pretty over-awed by it all.  And when she went up to collect her medal, and have a small chat, with the Queen herself, she couldn’t stop smiling, and Mum and I were very grateful in that moment that we had prized her out of her CPL sweatshirt, covered in cat hair, and into a smart light grey suit instead.   It was a magical day and Pat was proud as punch of that honour; right to the end it was in a frame by her bedside in Villa Maria. 

And it was of course a very well-deserved honour.  Pat devoted so much of her time and energy to cats and I suspect many of us here were recipients of a Pat Cat at some point in our lives; while a lucky few also got to go cat-trapping!  For those of you who’ve seen the website we set up in tribute to Pat, a story was recently added by Jackie which I do want to read out as I think its brilliant:-

Pat told me about the time she was catching feral cats up at the old Netherne Hospital, which is no longer there, but in those days was a place where people with mental illness resided. Apparently having set her traps she was squatting down behind some bins watching and waiting for the cats she was trying to ensnare. It seems an Orderly must have spotted this little elderly lady lurking furtively by the bins and came over and asked her if she was alright. Pat replied she was fine…….. He then asked her what she was doing……to which she replied she was catching cats……….. At this point she realised he must have thought she was from one of the wards as he said ‘Are you going to make cat pies dear?’ ………she said she was momentarily worried he was going to take her inside, and hastily explained that the hospital knew she was doing this and that she was there. 

It’s a wonderful story and stirs up strong memories for me of Pat ringing my Mum, usually late on a school-night, to say she was going to an industrial estate, or somewhere similar, as she’d had a call about some feral cats there.  Mum would be horrified and refuse to let her go alone but then get me out of bed to go with her.  It invariably ended with Mum and I waiting at the end of some dark passageway wearing enormous gauntlet gloves while Pat went to the other end to chase the cats through.  The result would normally be all of us ending up in fits of giggles at it all. 

Because that was the other thing about Pat.  She had a great, maybe even wicked, sense of humour.  Someone said to me that they thought she was quite straight-laced, at first.  And similarly when I was young she reminded me of a beautiful and chaste Julie Andrews, at times, but more often of Joyce Grenfell, strong and still beautiful but with a naughty sense of humour and sometimes a great big snorty laugh erupting too.   In the family she could invariably be found having a laugh with Uncle Harry or my Mum, Gillian – both big gigglers themselves.  I recall in particular the attempts my Mum and Pat made to join a local yoga class being foiled when the two of them got the giggles at all the farting.

Having spoken to so many of you I know you too have similar memories that make you laugh and I am sure this is how Pat would want us to remember her.  She would be so delighted to see you all here today.  Right until it was no longer possible she always made time to talk to friends – blocking out time in her diary for phone calls and letting nothing else get in the way.  The fact that so many of you have known her for so long is testament to how good she, and you, were at keeping up the friendship and, as I said to those of you I spoke to, Toby and I read all the letters and cards she got at Villa Maria and they always brightened her day – to hear news of you all.  We will all miss talking to Pat – she was so good at it!  So knowledgeable – of course about cats – something she also lectured the vets and I think Villa Maria, on, but about so many subjects.  Whatever you asked Pat she had an opinion or an answer on it, and she was usually right.

But more than that she was hugely positive, right to the end.  She had boundless energy and would never just put up with a situation – something we can all learn from.  But on top of that we loved her for her huge heart, her quick, mischievous wit and how she always made everything more positive.


TOBY

Most of you here knew Pat as a friend, some as a work colleague and many of you through her work with the Cat’s Protection League. But I, like my sister, knew her as Auntie Pat. And as an aunt she was fun, caring and generous.

One of my earliest memories of Auntie Pat is of sitting way up high on her shoulders watching a firework display just up the road in Sanderstead rec. Then, a few years later, going together to the cinema and making her sit through Superman 3! She also dutifully took me along each week to Judo classes, something she was only too keen to encourage as she had learned Judo herself many years before.

But what really stuck in my mind was the goat skull she kept on her dressing table, which I’d sneak into her bedroom to stare at and prod. I’m not sure if I realised at the time that this was actually quite an unusual object to find on a woman’s dressing table. But it seems in a way to sum up my aunt. Because, as you know, nature and animals were right at the heart of her life. Nature was something she let into her home, and she loved and championed it her whole life.

There were the badgers, of course, which came every night without fail, out of Bear’s Wood and down to her patio to polish off the peanut butter sandwiches she put out for them. And sometimes a fox or two as well. One of these, she noticed, had a bad case of mange, so she promptly went off to the vet’s to get the medicine to treat it. ‘I know some people say you shouldn’t interfere in nature’, she told me ‘but I can’t sit by and watch an animal suffer like that’. And she couldn’t.

Once, when she discovered that a frankly terrifying spider the size of a small country had made its web in the little cupboard where she kept her bin, rather than dispatching it as I would have done, she put a note on the door forbidding the binman to disturb it. And presumably, knowing what was good for him, he left it alone.

But of course, it was to cats that she devoted the major portion of her energies. I know that many of you here could say much more about this part of Pat’s life than I could, but her work left its mark on me too, often quite literally – in the bloody scratches meted out by the scores of feral cats she took into her home. But what she taught me, from a young age, was to treat animals with compassion and respect.

And years of trapping cats in all weathers, at all hours of the day and night, did no favours for her long-term health, but there was no stopping Pat, as others have said. And her kindness wasn’t restricted to cats. Even as her own mobility began to decline, Pat would regularly taxi those whose health was worse than hers to hospital appointments or off to the shops. When I suggested she scale back these activities and take things a bit easier, she replied – ‘But if I don’t do it, who will?’ And that was Pat through and through. If something needed doing, she did it.

And putting her feet up was never Pat’s style, and so when her health declined, though she never complained, it was hard for her at times. But even then, when I’d go down to see her for lunch, and we’d sit and watch the birds come and go on the feeders, she’d say – ‘I’m so lucky to live here and have all this right outside my window’. ‘I’ve had a very full life’, she’d say.

Pat didn’t care much about things, what she cared about was people – family, friends and those less fortunate than herself. And of course, she cared deeply for the natural world, in a way that I will always find inspiring and will try to live up to. She was a brilliant auntie and I will miss her very much.