A moggy called Hitler who was resident at a pub dubbed the maddest in Britain has died after being hit by a car.
Frederick Albert Hitler was the pub cat at the Poltimore Arms in Yarde Down, near Brayford, Devon, which is one of the most isolated boozers in the country.
Condolences for Fred have flooded in, including from celebrities such as Rachel Johnson, the PM’s sister – and there’s even going to be a flyover in his honour.
Fred was adopted from a rescue centre by landlord Steve Cotton in 2013, only a week after Steve took over the Exmoor pub, reports Devon Live.
“I walked into the centre and asked for the nastiest, most vicious cat that no one wanted,” said Steve.
“They immediately said ‘That'd be Fred’.
“When I got him, he was vicious – he was a horrible little bastard who would take on anyone that moved.
“He would rip me to shreds and pick a fight with people for no reason. I don't know what his previous owners were like, but I think when he got to the pub, it was like he had died and gone to heaven.
“It only took about six months for him to settle in, but I tell you he'd still square up to the most killer dogs in the world.”
The 17th-century pub has no heating or electricity, with the entire building lit by candlelight and powered by six solar panels.
The nearest town is three-and-a-half miles away, and there is little passing trade.
But the unique boozer has picked up an army of famous fans thanks to Fred and the pub’s quirkiness.
Visitors have included Prince Harry, Damien Hirst and Boris Johnson. Since Hitler’s demise, Steve has received hundreds of condolences, including from fashion designer Maia Norman and Rachel Johnson.
“I think even the cat-haters that came in here liked Fred because he wasn't a regular cat,” said Steve.
“He'd find the people that didn't like cats and just sit on them. He didn't give a s**t about who you are – but that's what this pub is all about. You could be a prince, a duke, whatever, but the moment you walk into this pub you are an equal.”
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A wake for Fred will be held next week, with local pilot Dangerous Dan set to perform a flyover in his memory.
“Fred was a cold hearted bastard but it really got to me when he died. It was six in the morning. I looked out of the window and there he was in the road,” said Steve.
“He was covered in blood but I just picked him up, put him on my lap, gave him a stroke and smoked a fag. It's a sad thing, but he had the best nine years a cat could hope for and all you can do is move forward.”
“We've never left the pub for nine years – it's just been me and Fred. He was the first thing I saw in the morning and the last thing I saw before going to bed. I'm going to really miss him.”
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