Cupes: c 1989 - 22 August 2006 (Hamilton New Zealand)
She arrived in a cardboard box at the back door - a tiny little black and white kitten with a spot on her nose and four white socks and a black toe, and deep blue eyes that looked like she'd been crying for days. She occupied my heart for the first year of school in New Zealand (apart from this dude called Gregory), and every story I would write would be about her - so much so that my teacher got sick of it and told me to change the subject. She really was every child's dream - a cat that creates so much mayhem to write stories about, and a cat that is so pretty, beautiful and easy to draw.
She was small and very affectionate, quite the connoisseur for food (being Taiwanese we had all sorts of left over offle and bits, you see), and in her young days she would terrorise the neighbourhood birds and rats, and on occasions, baby ducks from the river. She did have the bad habit of leaving her catches half eaten though, selecting to chew the softer parts like ears and tials. I remember finding a bird's wing she'd left me in the backdoor step once, and I taped the whole thing inside my exercise book for a science assignment. The teacher (different one) wasn't impressed either. Oh, and she turned orange one year. It was weird. But really funny. Her fur just got lighter and lighter and then all of a sudden she was orange. And then a couple of months later she went back to being black on the back again. Yeah I still can't explain that, especially because it has never happened since, either.
Cupes was very loyal, almost like a dog in many ways - like the fact that she answered to whistle calls, followed me and my sister out to walks on the streets, sits patiently by the food bowl till we allowed her to eat her meal, and sat firmly at the front or backdoor guarding it with her life. She was a keen gardener too, would you believe. Mum would dig holes in the flower beds for her new seedlings, and Cupes would go around pissing in them all, creating little mini ponds just to help with the nutrience for the plants before they get in the ground.
The most pleasurable thing about having Cupes is that she enjoyed life and life as a cat - she loved sleeping away in high places, in fact she loved sleeping. She loved being loved and admired by everyone, and she purred like an old car when she's happy. She loved her food, a bit of a food slut I have to say, she goes around getting feeds from neighbours at every end, and still come back home for more in the evenings. Most of all though, she loved being able to boss around her territory and she loved being our boss.
Cupes was sixteen when she died on a winters night when I was in Australia. I had last seen her six months earlier, having very firm confidence that she would live till she was at least twenty because she was still very robust and active. But these things are never predictable and I am really glad it happened fairly quickly for her rather than a prolonged illness.
Milly: c1989 - 22 August 2006 (Canberra Australia)
Milly and Shiner belonged to Templeton's family, and so while I only knew them and became one of their carers in the last few years of their lives, the way they have touched mine was very significant and beautiful.
When I first met Mills she was stretched out on the wooden floor in the sunniest spot in the lounge with her unruly hair all teased out and ready for a big comfortable sun bathe. Her big fluffy tail was crazy, her tabby fur was unkemptly grunge, the hair around her paws were dark black and it wasn't hard to fall in love with her. Every pose she'd made she was cute. She was extremely shy though, and have hardly allowed anyone to pick her up. I was told that she grew up in a marina having partial feral heritage, hence being a little weary of people. T's brother used to say that if she was a person she would be a big tart in pink cycle pants. But that's a bit cruel! Milly's just simply an independent and carefree child who is slightly selfish and pushy when it comes to things that she cares about and won't give a shit to things that doesn't matter to her. And why not?Milly was already really ill when I moved in, and it was hard seeing her waste away with her kidney disease. She was atrociously attacked by the neighbour's dog which shouldn't have been there - it still angers me today - but miraculously survived. But a month later she really went down hill and T & I decided to ask the vet to come in to put her to sleep. It was the first time I have seen someone/something close to me die. She was really in a bad way but still aware and conscious right till the end. It was relief and sadness all rolled into one when I saw her life slip away. She looked like a little angel with her eyes closed. I couldn't believe that I will never see her again. We buried her next to her favourite spot in the backyard with petals from the spring flowers that was blooming outside. It was a fine, beautiful sunny day. I am glad that was the last thing she saw.
T & I went up to the hill behind the house that night and drank a bottle of cheap wine in her honour. And yes it was a really big shock to the system to find out the next morning that Cupes had died the same day. That surreal week was a really big blow to me.
Shiner: c1987 - c July 2007 (Canberra Australia)
Shiner. What can I say? The most human like cat I have met in a long time. He was emotional, intelligent, demanding, grotesque, vocal, physical, vulnerable, fanatical, poised, snobby, charming, seductive all rolled into one. He was born to a burmese mother and a street cat father, and hence inherited a unique physique of an elongated and graceful figure with a very strong and solid stocky build, without an inch of fat. He would have weighed a good 12 or 13 Kgs in his hey days. In fact, I'd say he looked a bit like a kangaroo. His back and tail are grey and his tummy and feet are white, and his face is half grey and half white, hence 'Shiner' - the slang for a fist-inflicted eye injury.
He loved people as he loved himself. He imposes his affections upon pretty much every visitor by nudging himself onto their lap at the soonest opportunity, and promptly falls into uncontrollable purring and deep sleep that our poor guests would be too embarrassed to push him off. He liked girls more than boys too. That was his big trick.
His not-so secret weapon was his ripping howl. Something he developed later in life as I was told. The vet had mentioned that it was to do with age. Its a really rounded, deep and extended howl that almost sound like a bird's cry. And that would be his way of telling us he wants to be cuddled and loved. He would often do this in the mornings at weekends until we let him out of his bed (in the laundry), and as soon as he gets the chance he would find a way of getting under the doona with us and overtly chooses a spot to park himself for the rest of the morning, often with his paws on my legs and not letting me get up cos he's slobbered all over me. His overwhelming and childlike affection is absolutely addictive.
I was in Paris when I found out that Shiner hadn't come home one really cold evening. He was never found again. He would have been nearing 20 years old. It was hard for me receiving the news from afar, but I was also glad in the sense that he didn't have it dragged out like Milly's illness. I went up to the Sacre Coeur Basilica up in Montmarte the next day. I lit a candle for Shiner and sat in the prayer's area looking at the giant beautifully painted dome with Jesus and all the local people that had helped build the church. It was the first time I prayed in a basilica, I didn't think it would ever happen in my life. But it did and it felt strangely right at the time. I let myself cry in there and the tears lasted for a long time. Till I felt something was released inside me and it went off with the bells.
between black and white there are many shades of grey
1 comment:
What's the ratio of people to animals in New Zealand?
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