Callie Cat is hard to write about. She was the only female cat we ever had. Anyway, Kitty had disappeared long since and we were left with only Ozzie, the objectionable cat that no-one liked. At work, I had lots of cat conversations, as you do, and discovered that one of the nursing aides bred Burmese cats.
She thought they were the most wonderful breed in the world, but I had owned Kitty and knew Siamese were. We argued long and hard, but she knew I was a cat person and a sucker.
One night she rang me at home, and asked if I could take a Burmese cat that had been given to her because she was known to be a breeder of Burmese. I wasn't sure. A reject cat was sure to be a problem. She assured me I would adore this cat who was about six months old and had never been outside in her life. Our cats were adventurers. We didn't consider imprisoning them. In other words, I hated having a poo-dish inside the house.
After much household discussion we decided to take the cat who had been spayed already. She was dropped off and she sat in my lap, a tiny ball of pale cream fur. Her colour was the most beautiful of any cat ever. I couldn't move. I didn't want to reject her when her first owner had. I couldn't put her on the floor. My youngest daughter was two at the time. I think I was having an 'I want another baby' moment. Eventually I moved. Callie spent her days on my lap or my shoulder if I was at home, or sitting on one of the window sills looking out when I wasn't. Finally I thought she could be let outside for a while.
She loved being outside, but what she loved most of all was me. She followed me like a shadow. Even when I went shopping, she insisted on coming. She adored the car and she would sit on the dashboard, her version of 'helping' me with the shopping, She also helped with the cooking by waiting and frowning at Oz who always had to get underfoot. He was such a pest and she was so perfect.
We decided to 'show' her and she won many ribbons, including The Best in The Show. One time - cats had to be bathed before being shown - she disappeared just after she'd had her bath. I called and called and I could hear her answer, but from a distance, that loud Burmese 'mewl.' Two days passed. We asked the neighbours if we could search their yards, but we still couldn't find her. The mew became more faint.
Bob was sent on a neighbourhood excursion. One lot of people in the next street said they could hear a cat and thought she might be on their roof, though they couldn't see her. So Bob got onto the roof and there was Callie, who leapt into his arms, trying to 'splain' what had happened. I was overjoyed to see her again. She spent the next few days on my shoulder as if she was afraid to venture too far in case she did something too adventurous. However, she had plenty more adventures. She was hit by a car (I know, cats should be kept indoors) and survived.
One day she completely disappeared. We scanned all the local roofs but we didn't hear a mewl from her. Months went by and I mourned every single day. I never wanted another cat because I couldn't cope with the misery of losing her. However, the daughters insisted, and so we bought a blue Burmese male (Gemini) from my coworker perhaps to replace Callie, but she was irreplaceable.
One fine and sunny day, I was weeding the garden around the side when something landed on my back. Callie used to do this, her way of helping with the weeding. Then she dropped beside me, mewling. I couldn't breathe. I didn't honestly believe what I was seeing. The relief was incredible. I just sat with her, howling my head off. She was a bag of bones with mucky eyes, starving and filthy. For the only time in my life, I believed in miracles. I don't know where she had been, but she was taken instantly to the vet.
If you have read my book Perfect Scents, the cat in the story was based on this episode. She healed and she was the same gorgeous loving cat as ever. But I need to speak more about her car addiction. If anyone left a window open in a car, she would pop inside, hoping to be taken for a drive. This was her eventual downfall and what had probably happened to her the previous time.
She disappeared again. We asked all the neighbours and one mentioned he saw her in the back of a tradies' car, or a pale cat he thought could have been her. We tracked down the guy who had been working over the road. Bob made a phone call and drove to the other side of town to speak to him. The man hadn't noticed a cat, but he left his car windows open which is why we suspected Callie had gone with him.
Despite the fact that he lived so far away, we hoped she would somehow make her way back again. We could only assumed this is what had happened the last time. We put ads in all the papers.
About a month later, a woman saw the ad. She had found a starving cat that she took to the vet, who said she was a cream Burmese. He put her down.
I sobbed for days. Callie only had one more main road to cross and she would have been home.
She thought they were the most wonderful breed in the world, but I had owned Kitty and knew Siamese were. We argued long and hard, but she knew I was a cat person and a sucker.
One night she rang me at home, and asked if I could take a Burmese cat that had been given to her because she was known to be a breeder of Burmese. I wasn't sure. A reject cat was sure to be a problem. She assured me I would adore this cat who was about six months old and had never been outside in her life. Our cats were adventurers. We didn't consider imprisoning them. In other words, I hated having a poo-dish inside the house.
After much household discussion we decided to take the cat who had been spayed already. She was dropped off and she sat in my lap, a tiny ball of pale cream fur. Her colour was the most beautiful of any cat ever. I couldn't move. I didn't want to reject her when her first owner had. I couldn't put her on the floor. My youngest daughter was two at the time. I think I was having an 'I want another baby' moment. Eventually I moved. Callie spent her days on my lap or my shoulder if I was at home, or sitting on one of the window sills looking out when I wasn't. Finally I thought she could be let outside for a while.
She loved being outside, but what she loved most of all was me. She followed me like a shadow. Even when I went shopping, she insisted on coming. She adored the car and she would sit on the dashboard, her version of 'helping' me with the shopping, She also helped with the cooking by waiting and frowning at Oz who always had to get underfoot. He was such a pest and she was so perfect.
We decided to 'show' her and she won many ribbons, including The Best in The Show. One time - cats had to be bathed before being shown - she disappeared just after she'd had her bath. I called and called and I could hear her answer, but from a distance, that loud Burmese 'mewl.' Two days passed. We asked the neighbours if we could search their yards, but we still couldn't find her. The mew became more faint.
Bob was sent on a neighbourhood excursion. One lot of people in the next street said they could hear a cat and thought she might be on their roof, though they couldn't see her. So Bob got onto the roof and there was Callie, who leapt into his arms, trying to 'splain' what had happened. I was overjoyed to see her again. She spent the next few days on my shoulder as if she was afraid to venture too far in case she did something too adventurous. However, she had plenty more adventures. She was hit by a car (I know, cats should be kept indoors) and survived.
One day she completely disappeared. We scanned all the local roofs but we didn't hear a mewl from her. Months went by and I mourned every single day. I never wanted another cat because I couldn't cope with the misery of losing her. However, the daughters insisted, and so we bought a blue Burmese male (Gemini) from my coworker perhaps to replace Callie, but she was irreplaceable.
One fine and sunny day, I was weeding the garden around the side when something landed on my back. Callie used to do this, her way of helping with the weeding. Then she dropped beside me, mewling. I couldn't breathe. I didn't honestly believe what I was seeing. The relief was incredible. I just sat with her, howling my head off. She was a bag of bones with mucky eyes, starving and filthy. For the only time in my life, I believed in miracles. I don't know where she had been, but she was taken instantly to the vet.
If you have read my book Perfect Scents, the cat in the story was based on this episode. She healed and she was the same gorgeous loving cat as ever. But I need to speak more about her car addiction. If anyone left a window open in a car, she would pop inside, hoping to be taken for a drive. This was her eventual downfall and what had probably happened to her the previous time.
She disappeared again. We asked all the neighbours and one mentioned he saw her in the back of a tradies' car, or a pale cat he thought could have been her. We tracked down the guy who had been working over the road. Bob made a phone call and drove to the other side of town to speak to him. The man hadn't noticed a cat, but he left his car windows open which is why we suspected Callie had gone with him.
Despite the fact that he lived so far away, we hoped she would somehow make her way back again. We could only assumed this is what had happened the last time. We put ads in all the papers.
About a month later, a woman saw the ad. She had found a starving cat that she took to the vet, who said she was a cream Burmese. He put her down.
I sobbed for days. Callie only had one more main road to cross and she would have been home.
RSS Feed
