Monday, October 22, 2007

Revenge of the Cat.

All our animals have always had character & then some. Gyver was the cat I always wanted. He was part Siamese with lovely blue eyes & the softest cream fur with ginger points. He was a rescued stray & neighbours found him as a half starved kitten on their waterfront with a fish hook through his tongue. They didn't like cats so when I went to relieve them of him his lovely cream fur was black with fleas. He became the only cat I've ever bathed & Jossie promptly declared Gyver his.

Now Gyver had all the usual Siamese quirks plus a few of his own, including a very apt sense of humour.

Liddy was about 4 or so & she had one friend who happened to be a little boy who owned a pure bred Siamese so he was very used to cats, & particularly to Siamese. He spent a lot of time at our house playing with Liddy but he had one very bad trait. Gyver, like lots of Siamese, had cross~eyes so his vision was never the best & he spooked easily. Liddy's friend knew this & his favourite game was to jump out suddenly at the unsuspecting cat & send it into hysterics. After a whole morning of this I decided the cat really deserved a break. He had endured the teasing patiently & never a hiss nor a spit nor a claw showed.

I bundled the children out the door, walked them slowly down our road & then into the mangroves so we could walk back home along the waterfront looking for honeyeater nests & turtle bones. Half way home there was a sudden blurr of white. Gyver leapt out of nowhere at his tormentor with a huge cat grin on his face then turned tail & fled home while the little boy had hysterics.

I still miss Gyver. He was always so grateful for the home he had with us & he loved us so much we had him for many more years than we really should have. He had been sick for a long time & had taken himself off to die as cats so often do but he had chosen a day of thunderstorms & knowing how terrified of storms Gyver was the whole house was out looking for him, calling & calling. Eventually Ditz heard him & we brought him in & dried him off but he was never the same cat & now I think he lived on in a lot of pain never letting on just because we wanted him so much.

If I had my way I would have a house full of cats. Pity my Dearest who really is a dog man & lives with a housefull of cats lovers because I corrupted the kids young. Happiness is a purring pussy.


Constance said...

It hurts when we lose a pet that is especially dear to us. We have had guinea pigs over the years and when Charlie was 8, Chippy-Pig died. He declared he'd never love another animal because it was just too painful when they died.

It was a great object lesson for him to learn as I explained that anything or anyone that we choose to love, how it comes with a price. God being the ultimate example of loving us and sacrificing what was closest to Him, was His Son Jesus. If we close ourselves off to others sure, we miss being hurt but we also miss knowing what it feels like to love and be loved in return.

sevenwhiskers said...

Gyver sounds like he was quite the cat (as does Issi) -- and as someone with a "houseful of cats", I quite agree that happiness is a purring feline. >^..^<