IT’S ALL ABOUT THE CAT

15 years ago, if I had suggested to my mother that she should get a cat, she would have thrown a fry pan at me.

My how things have changed….

Mum and Dad were not fans of cats in any way, shape or form.  They just didn’t like them.  They would carry on that they would dig up plants, crap in their garden, and spray everywhere.  They hated them.

That all changed about 10 years ago.

You see, about six months before I moved up to the sticks with Charlie-Albert, I moved back home.  With my two cats.

The Oldies were very apprehensive about it. Not with me! The cats! To the point that the actually suggested I put them in a cattery.  After my numerous reassurances, and my declaration that I it was cruel to shove them in a cattery for six months, they were content to let them in the house.

Within a month, these cats had my parentals wrapped around their furry little paws.  They would talk to them, fuss over them, pat them, cuddle them, buy toys for them, feed them…. They were totally converted.

After I moved to the sticks, when the olds came to visit, they would fuss over the cats so much, it was near nauseating.  At one point, I actually wondered who they had come to visit…

After Dad passed away, I felt that Mum, who is a very loving and caring person, needed someone to fuss over.  She had a love bird for 11 years, and he was so beautiful and such a lovely little companion, but he too had passed away.  Now, I felt she may get a little lonely without someone to spoil.

So I floated the idea of a cat, and she’s like ‘I don’t think so.’ 

‘Really?’

‘Oh yes.  I’m not a cat person.’

‘Really?’ insert sarcasm.  ‘Is that why, when the neighbour’s cat comes up the driveway, that you chase it all over the place to pat it and talk to it?  Is that why, when you come to up to visit me, you’re all over the cats like a fat kid on birthday cake?’

I think this flash of reality opened her eyes a little, just quietly.

Anyway, thanks to friends of hers, who are breeders of rag doll cats (check out http://www.dandyragdolls.com.au/), Iris found herself the owner of Cleopatra; affectionately known as Princess.

Now, to indicate how ‘not a cat person’ my mother is, let me share some recent discoveries with you.

As you know, I’ve blogged before about Mum selling her home and moving up to the sticks.  So, we’re driving around Kilmore, having a look at some of the units I have pre-inspected for her. 

I park in front of one of them, and explain that although this is a lovely unit, you can only see the garage from the road, which means that Mum won’t really be able to see anything other than the neighbours back wall.  Mum agreed, declaring that the cat would be unhappy, because she would have nothing to look at. 

God help us if the cat got bored.

So, we’re looking at another couple of units, and after some extensive discussions, Mum declared that the cat would be happy with these, because she could sit in one of many windows and look at the cars and people going by, and even in some cases, the neighbours getting about.

Now, having moved a couple of times myself, and having to cart fleabags around with me, their comfort was not necessarily a priority to me.  In fact, it was more like ‘if you don’t like living here, have a mug of concrete, and harden the fuck up.’

Funnily enough, they never protested.

Who would have thought that a cat being able to watch the world go buy was an important aspect in the decision making process of purchasing a new home? 

Apparently, it’s all about the cat.

Pretty good for someone that doesn’t like cats, hey?

Peace out.