I had always considered myself a dog person, finding cats far too aloof and independent for my liking. Give me a dog any day, one that will walk with you, and enjoy the pats and scratching behind the ears you give them.
Such a dog was the old German gentleman, Booka, who belonged to my daughter-in-law. Everyone in Atherton knew him and his faithful companion, the Border Collie, Ischie. We all felt his absence so keenly when he died quietly one November morning.
Who was to know that I could be so fickle? A little calico coloured cat wandered into the home and heart of my son, and she soon captivated many others, including little old dog loving me. This is Puschka, who is certainly the Princess of her domain.
She has opened my eyes to the delights and possibilities of owning a cat. I have taken care of her while my son and daughter-in-law were away, and loved the experience. I also had the chance to house sit, and what was more important, to cat sit for Lou and Peter, in Melbourne. Their cats, Fletcher and Weaver, sealed my fate. I was a born again cat lover!
Now, the dangerous part of my story. I had noticed a pretty tabby cat sunning herself in my backyard. She kept her distance, I decided she must belong to someone in the neighbourhood, and just used my sunny (or shady) patches when it suited her. Then the other day, I came home from buying some groceries, and left the door ajar behind me. Bad idea! Here’s what I saw when I turned back to close the door.
She’s so darn pretty, and so darn pregnant! It took all my will power to show her the door, and close it behind me.
I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, so I hope she has had her kittens, and is well launched into the joys of motherhood.
Every time I go out my back door, I rather hope she’ll turn up.
But, what would a cat do when I’m gone to Venice for long stays each year? Maybe one year, when I’m old and can’t travel, I’ll find the cat of my dreams.