The Goodest Boy Has Landed

Posted on February 6, 2023 by Samantha Rose

Brutus and Kevin were curled up on the sofa together. It was a particularly cold evening in August and although the gas heater was on, the boys still felt the need to snuggle up to each other.

The things you do to keep warm
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Kevin had been particularly clingy with Brutus in recent weeks, choosing not to leave his side and curling up next to the old dog whenever he could. Brutus seemed to take some comfort in this contact and the two boys would much prefer to be next to each other rather than with myself or my husband.

“My leg is hurting me.” Brutus sighed one night. “The human is taking me to the vets tomorrow to get it looked at.”

Kevin looked up from washing his bum and frowned, “Are you OK Brutus?”

“Not sure yet, I hope so” Brutus shrugged.

Saturday 6th August 2022 – At the Vets

Brutus had always loved going to the vets as he gets to kiss the nurses and gets spoilt with treats and this visit was no different. The vet let him scoff the rest of the treats in the tub while she examined his hind leg. It was painful for Brutus but the dried roo snacks made it a pretty good trade off.

“There is a slight swelling on his right hock, it could be an infection or arthritis but we have to rule out more serious things so best we X-ray him.” said the vet and she then organised an X-ray for the following Wednesday.

Brutus loved all the staff at the vets – pic taken in healthier times for Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Wednesday 10th August 2022

“See you later then?” Brutus grinned at Kevin. His handsome face now frosty with grey fur on his eye tufts and around his muzzle. But although he was nearly ten years old, he still behaved like a puppy and was obsessed with his toys.

“You bet you will. I’ll bite your legs if you sniff my bum!” Kevin taunted him.

“You don’t have any teeth Kevin but hey, who am I to shatter your plans.” Brutus smirked back at him.

“Are you scared?” Kevin asked him.

After a few seconds Brutus replied bluntly, “No, I am not.”

And with that, Brutus was led outside and helped into the car by his human Dad while Kev pressed his face against the window and watched the car reverse out of the garage.

I was working from home that week and later that day I received the call from the vet saying that the X-rays showed it was looking likely that Brutus had bone cancer. But they were going to obtain a sample to make sure because there was a slim chance that it could be an infection and that needed to be ruled out. At that point I was hoping by some miracle it was an infection but the awful sinking feeling in my stomach told me otherwise.

Several hours later, I collected a sleepy Brutus from the vets along with his bag of strong painkilling medication. The vet and the nurse lifted him into the car for me and I drove home with my precious cargo in the back while sporadically sobbing each time I stopped at any traffic lights. I wasn’t ready for this – none of us were. How dare cancer do this to our dog.

Thursday 11th August 2022

Mates for life
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“How will the humans manage without you?” Kevin asked Brutus that evening once Brutus had filled him in on the news.

“They have you to help them Kevin.” He nudged him gently.

“How will I manage? I mean with my anger management issues, am I up to the job?” Kevin quizzed him.

“You are the ONLY man for the job and of course you will manage.” Brutus said firmly.

And with that, Kevin had to be content but inwardly he was terrified because being alone had never been his strong point. He had always enjoyed interacting with Brutus through the bedroom window watching him play in the garden and Brutus had always done a splendid job of keeping the stray cats out of the garden in return. (Kevin hates other cats)

The Results

The vet telephoned me the next day to say that there was no sign of infection and that it was indeed bone cancer – likely osteosarcoma. This is a fast spreading and aggressive cancer and quite often, by the time it is diagnosed, it has often spread. Suddenly, a few things fell in to place about Brutus and his behaviour in recent months – nothing specific, but things that could easily be put down to old age or arthritis but with further investigation, would show otherwise.

Brutus weighed 35kgs and already had a reduced range of movement in his hips from old age and we did not think it would be fair on him to amputate his leg and put him through chemotherapy. He was not the kind of dog that could manage on three legs at all and he was already looking unwell which probably meant that the cancer had spread.

After ending the call with the vet, I called my husband to give him the news. He too had been hanging on to the hope that it would be an infection or arthritis and it was awful to shatter that last bit of hope for him and I could hear the devastation in his voice.

Because we had been advised that he could have between one and three months left to live, we had decided to treat Brutus palliatively and make every single day for him count and create a bucket list of his favourite things to enjoy.

Taken just after he had his Xrays
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Saturday 13th August 2022 – Bucket List

“What’s a bucket list?” Kevin demanded to Brutus, “And why have you got one and I haven’t?”

“Because I am the goodest boy!” Brutus said smugly and nudged Kevin so hard that he fell off the sofa and said “Bollocks!”.

The Goodest Boys Club
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus then patiently explained to Kevin what a bucket list was and how it is a nice thing to do in order to fill the time that you have left in life with the things that would please you the most and make you happy.

Kevin frowned, “I have a question?”

“Go on, what is it?” Brutus asked him.

“Why do we have to wait until our time is running out before doing nice things? Why doesn’t everyone do the stuff that they dream of doing now?”

Brutus didn’t reply because he didn’t know the answer to that and quite frankly, neither do I.

But I will say that his bucket list consisted of lots of nice things including a trip to Petstock to choose a toy, have all of his favourite food, go to his favourite cafe, have his favourite humans come round to see him, go to Bunnings and have a hotdog from the sausage sizzle and finally, take him on a final holiday to our favourite AirBnB in Prevelly, Western Australia.

Bucket List Item Number 1. – Favourite Cafe and Beach Trip

Me and Brutus – Day One of his bucket list
Photograph by Samantha Rose

The first item on the bucket list was to take Brutus to ours and his favourite cafe and feed him whatever we were having and that day. He enjoyed both savoury and sweet muffins. In fact, he had most of ours as we didn’t have much of an appetite to be honest.

“Mum?” Brutus asked me.

“Yes darling?”

“Have I got crumbs on my face?” Brutus stuffed his smushy face up close to mine.

“No you haven’t Brutus.” I told him.

“Well, don’t you think it’s about time that I did have some crumbs on my face – and in my mouth?” He eyed up the last piece of savoury muffin on my husband’s plate.

I laughed at him and gave him the piece of muffin and watched him eat it in exaggerated fashion as though it was a three course meal. Brutus was never a quick eater and would make a big deal out of the smallest of morsels.

After that we went for a gentle walk on the beach by the riverside. It’s a gorgeous place and Brutus’s often used to swim there.

Brutus on his favourite beach in South Fremantle – Pic taken in healthier days
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Bucket List Item Number 2. – Petstock

The next stop was Petstock in South Fremantle – our local pet shop, this was on the same day as bucket list item number 1. Brutus loves it there as the girls always make such a fuss of him and give him treats. Let me add that Brutus’s tantrums in this store were legendary and he was famous for them. Each time I took him to the store, if he found a toy that he wanted and I wouldn’t buy it, you could bet your sweet life that he would throw himself on the ground, shadow box with his front paws and refuse to get up.

The wonderful staff there would usually have to tempt him out of the store with food/treats to get him to my car.

On one occasion he spotted a blue plush unicorn head toy and decided that he wanted it. We managed to get him out of the store to the car with treats. But then he threw himself onto the bitumen in the carpark and kicked his legs like a baby horse.

The only time he moved was when I took him back into the shop to purchase the said unicorn toy. While I was waiting to pay, my husband called and asked where I was (I was due home). Explaining to him about the tantrum over the toy, my husband sighed, ‘You are not going to buy it for him are you, he has more than enough toys!’

“I can’t exactly make any promises I am afraid” I replied. And much to the delight of Brutus, we left the store with him clutching his new plush unicorn head. We even got a photo of one of the store assistants posing with Brutus and his unicorn. What a day that was for a dog to be alive – he had a captive audience, treats from the store, lots of cuddles, told what a good boy he was AND he got the toy of his dreams.

The day of the ‘Unicorn Incident’ and the fabulous staff at Petstock
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Anyway, as part of his bucket list, we let him choose some toys and treats and got the staff to keep them behind the counter for us and I would pay for them the next day (Monday).

“Can I really have whatever I want?” Brutus barked happily.

“Whatever you want.” I hugged him. He looked so happy to be there, his tail wagging in circles so fast that he knocked some of the toys off the shelves. Unable to believe his luck, he noisily snuffled into some fluffy toy rabbits and then searched along the shelves until he found some Kong toys. We made our selection and the girls put them aside for us.

It had definitely been a good day for Brutus. He was limping a little and we were careful not to walk him far – literally just the bare minimum for him.

Monday 15th August 2022

But despite our best efforts and much to my shock, I couldn’t believe how much Brutus deteriorated overnight. When I woke up on Monday morning to take him for his morning pee, he got off the sofa and his leg gave way. It broke my heart to see my darling boy scrabbling along the floor and I had to use a towel under his belly to help him to the garden. Hoping it was just morning stiffness, I asked my husband to keep an eye on him while I was at work.

Later that morning my husband called me to say that Brutus couldn’t stand properly on his own and could now no longer walk unaided. Not only that, he was visibly looking tired and unwell.

The vet had in fact warned us that his leg would not be strong – sometimes the leg can even just break/snap with osteosarcoma and it would be excruciating. We didn’t want that happening to Brutus so when my husband called me, I knew it was decision time.

“What do you think?” I asked him, my heart was pounding in my chest, I felt physically sick. Did I want to know the answer?

“I think he’s done.” My husband said sadly.

Taking a deep breath, I telephoned the vets to organise the final trip to Rainbow Bridge for my sweet dog who wouldn’t even get to complete his bucket list of a sausage sizzle at Bunnings or go down to Prevelly, to the cottage that he loved so much.

Our favourite Air BnB Cottage in Prevelly – Brutus loved his holidays there
Photograph by Samantha Rose

We really wanted the vet to come to our house so that Brutus could be comfortable in his home with his family. The vet agreed with our decision and arrangements were made to come to our house at 11am the next day (Tuesday 16th August).

Brutus and Kevin remained close that night, it was a private connection that we were not privy to and could only watch. “Brutus, who is going to run around the Mitzi when you are gone?” Kevin meowed, he looked quite upset. “Because it can’t be me, I am an indoor cat.”

The old brown dog frowned, “There may not be anyone that can run around the Mitzi for some time I’m afraid.”

“How did that all start – running around the Mitzi?” Kevin asked him, “Tell me the story again…”

Brutus patiently started to tell Kevin the story of how running around his human Dad’s Mitzi car, became something of a national sport within his garden.

And speaking of the Mitzi, allow me to tell you the story so that you will know what I am talking about.

Run Around the Mitzi

One of Brutus’s habits was that when my husband came home from work in the evenings, he liked to do a lap around my husbands car – a Mitsubishi SUV. We don’t know why he enjoyed it but we do know that it was important for him to greet my husband in this way.

It didn’t matter how cold/wet/windy it was, on his way back into the house after saying hello to my husband, he had to run around the ‘Mitzi’. He would then run inside at speed, skidding across the floor while looking absurdly proud of himself. We even got to the stage where we could say to him ‘Brutus, run around the Mitzi!’ and he would do so on command, running as fast as his long legs could carry him with a big grin on his face.

I would hear the garage door go up – sometimes early, sometimes late – even midnight and Brutus would go outside, wait for my husband to park the car, greet him and then do his laps around the car. It was adorable and became part of our evening routine. Kevin would watch out of the living room window looking somewhat bemused at Brutus clumsily doing zoomies around the Mitzi.

We tried to confuse him one night as we both drive SUVs and I put my Kia where my husband would normally park his Mitzi and then let Brutus out. Brutus was about to start running when he skidded to a halt, looked at both cars and then immediately went to my husbands car to start running. There was no tricking him let me tell you that.

My husband did say though, he enjoyed Brutus going outside to meet him every night, wagging his tail, wiping his snout on his jeans and then doing laps around the car. It was a lovely welcoming home routine and we loved it.

Bedtime

We left the bedroom door open that night and in the early hours of the morning, we could hear Brutus scrabbling across the floor to come into the bedroom.

He went to see my husband first and then I helped him up on to the bed. I was squished up at the end of the bed with nothing but a sheet to barely cover me and felt as stiff as a board. Yet I couldn’t disturb him.

I occasionally felt a gentle lick on my face but other than that, he slept soundly between his two humans.

I took this photo of him on the morning that he left us – this final cuddle was so important to him – to all of us. Photograph by Samantha Rose

The garbage truck came and went without event and without Brutus barking at it and starting off the local dog choir that usually did the obligatory barking every Tuesday. I guess another dog would have to take over that role.

But for Brutus, his time with us was almost done and he had earned his rest.

Waiting….

We have never had any of our animals sent to Rainbow Bridge from home before – but it just seemed to be the right thing for Brutus. Rocky our kelpie went to the vet as an emergency so it was different for him.

The waiting part was the hardest. My chest was aching with grief, we knew it was the kindest decision and we owed Brutus a dignified and pain free ending. But still, it didn’t make it any easier.

At 09.54am I received a text from the vet saying that they would be arriving at around 11.30am. That was fine by us as our good friend Greet – a lady that Brutus loved so very much and had always bought him birthday and Christmas presents, was going to come round to see him to say goodbye.

When she arrived, Brutus was lying on his bed, wagging his tail and made heroic efforts to try and stand up so that he could wash her neck and show her what a good boy he was.

“Ive bought you some toys!” Greet said to him while holding a stuffed cow and a stuffed bright pink pig (Brutus loved his squeaky plus piggy toys that Greet used to buy him).

‘Is that mine?” Brutus asked happily and before Greet could answer, he took the pink plush pig and tried to hobble to the living room to play.

“Damn it, my legs won’t work!” Brutus looked frustrated as his hind leg gave way from under him. Greet coaxed him back on to his bed so she could pet him without him falling over.

“You’re such a good boy, you really are!” Greet told him. Then she gave a delighted Brutus all the cuddles he wanted while he frantically tried to wash the tears from her face.

Greet and Brutus – goodbyes are hard
Photograph by Samantha Rose

A bit later after Greet had gone, we saw the car pull up outside the driveway and we opened the garage door so the vet and the nurse could drive into our garden. We quickly had to put Kevin in his room as we did not want him to see any of this and he isn’t always good with visitors anyway.

The sofa was ready with Brutus’s favourite toys – including his beloved unicorn and favourite bears. Brutus’s blanket had been carefully laid on there for him – all the things that he loved were there.

The vet and the nurse came armed with a soft blanket for Brutus to lay on. Brutus was so happy to see them, “Hi ladies, how is it going?” Then as he tried to get up to greet them, he collapsed to the floor and we helped him up so he was sitting on the blankets on the sofa.

We chatted for a bit, we laughed and we cried – they had known him for his entire 9.5 years and had watched him grow into the magnificent dog he was. Then the vet put a cannula in to his hind leg – he barely noticed it. (Brutus hated his front legs being touched).

Now the next part of the story will be seen from Brutus’s point of view

Brutus was on the blankets on the sofa when he heard a little cough. Ignoring it, he rested his head on his paws while the humans fussed him.

“Excuse me, it’s rude to ignore visitors!” A well spoken voice said in the background.

Forcing himself to sit up, Brutus blinked a few times, cocked his head to the side and gasped.

“Hello my friend!” The voice piped up. And there; standing right in front of Brutus was his old kelpie brother Rocky who crossed over to Rainbow Bridge in 2018.

Our old Rocky Dog
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus looked at the humans who were busy talking. How could they not see the little black kelpie dog in the living room? “OMG Rocky! You came for me – but I don’t understand, how come the humans cant see you?”

“They can’t see me, only you can. I am here to escort you on to the next part of your journey to Rainbow Bridge.”

“What do I do? I don’t know what to do?” Brutus looked a bit frightened.

“Let your humans cuddle you and enjoy it – make the most of it and make the most of them. Don’t worry, I’ve got you and everything is going to be OK I promise.” Rocky comforted him.

Brutus settled back in the sofa and he noticed that his Mum was sitting right next to him and his Dad was leaning above him and stroking him. Rocky was right, how jolly nice to have so much affection and the fluffy blanket felt so nice and soft as well.

“Kangaroo meat Brutus?” He heard his Mum’s voice ask him. That was nice, he never got roo meat in the mornings. He took it gently, ate it and continued talking to Rocky.

“You are looking good Rocky, how are your hips? Do you still have cancer?” Brutus asked him.

“Some raw steak Brutus?” His Mum offered him.

“Don’t mind if I do!” Brutus laughed and gobbled down the steak.

“No cancer, no bad hips – life is fantastic if I say so myself!” Rocky replied and then added. “Oh yes, you have a few people waiting for you at Rainbow Bridge, I think you are going to be in for a nice surprise!”

“Schmackos Brutus?” His Mum handed him some treats. She was crying. Why was she crying?

“Hmmm, Oh yes – go on then!” Brutus nodded. “I am a bit tired but I’ve always got room for some Schmackos but no more after that, I am too full to eat another thing.”

“Who is there, is Vader the boxer there?” Brutus yawned.

“Might be, only one way to find out!” Rocky barked softly.

“Rocky, I feel a bit funny, Oh no, I’m scared, what is happening? what do I do?” Brutus panicked.

“You’re Mum is right in front of you, give her a kiss.” Rocky instructed him.

Brutus had started to lose focus but managed to look at his Mum’s face – it was so close to his, close enough to kiss her. And that is exactly what he did just before he fell asleep.

Time to go….

Brutus and Rocky remained for a few minutes, watching the humans and Kevin – who had been let out of his room to acknowledge what had happened and to say his own goodbyes.

“Will they be OK?” Brutus asked Rocky.

“Yes, in time they will. They will soon come to realise that it was for the best. Your Mum and Kevin are going to need a bit of looking after though – it’s going to be hard on them in coming months.

The two dogs watched on for a few minutes more as Brutus adapted to how he was feeling and his new self.

“Ready to go my friend?” Rocky gestured to Brutus.

Taking one last look at his family, the vet, the nurse, the sofa, the toys – everything he loved, he nodded, “Yes, I think so!”

Then in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Breezy – Brutus’s sister

Breezy on the left and Brutus on the right
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Breezy is Brutus’s sister and her human and I, are friends on FB – I have known her more or less since we adopted the dogs.

Our dogs have had playdates in the past and were so very alike in mannerisms and behaviours, I would refer to them as ‘two halves of a whole dog’ because they were that identical.

Breezy’s human told me that around the time that Brutus died, Breezy had gone out into the garden. She suddenly went a bit wobbly on her legs, vomited, looked confused for a bit and then after a few minutes, she calmly walked away.

Breezy I must add, is just as kind and gentle as Brutus was – I still maintain that they were two halves of the same dog and we got so lucky when we adopted them.

Me and Breezy on the left, and Me and Brutus on the right
Photograph by Samantha Lakehal

Rainbow Bridge

Bowie the white greyhound and Gatekeeper of Rainbow Bridge had been up since 5am making sure everything was ready for that day.

He had instructed some of the Rainbow Bridge residents to line up on either side to greet the new arrival.

Vader the boxer, Madam Gigi, Fat Harry, Augie and Dash – the Italian greyhounds were lined up and ready.

Brutus and his old Iggy friend Dash
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Oh darling, I cannot believe he is coming to us at last!’ Madam Gigi said dramatically as she fanned herself with a large leaf. “I truly might faint with excitement!”

“I know what you mean, this is bloody unexpected isn’t it!” Fat Harry puffed his cheeks out and shook his head. “Still, it’s good that the gang are slowly reuniting again I must admit!”

As the Italian greyhounds spoke loudly in their high pitched voices, all trying to shout at once in order to be heard. Dash was asking if there were any snacks as he was hungry and Fat Harry was pointing to his mouth and doing gestures of hunger. Madam Gigi was still fanning herself with the leaf and while occasionally glancing at Vader the boxer trying to waft his farts in her direction.

It was so noisy that Bowie the greyhound had to cough a few times to get their silence.

“Excuse me everyone! Can we have silence please!” Bowie barked to shut them up.

“Shhhhh, he’s coming!” Madam Gigi hissed at the other Iggies.

Suddenly you could hear an unmistakable deep voice saying, “Are you sure I am going to like it here?”

“Absolutely.” A voice replied.

As the clouds parted, Brutus and Rocky slowly walked up towards Bowie who was several metres from the gates of Rainbow Bridge. Bowie had greeted millions of animals entering The Bridge and now he had to greet the gentle giant that stood before him – the dog that he had heard so much about from the Iggies.

“Hello Brutus, welcome to Rainbow Bridge. My name is Bowie and I am the gatekeeper.”

“Pleased to meet you Bowie.” Brutus puffed up his chest and smoothed his ears to make himself look smart.

“Fancy a run through the gate?” Rocky poked Brutus’s neck with his snout.

“I don’t think I can do that, my leg has been awful lately.” Brutus shook his head.

“Try it, you might surprise yourself.” Rocky said to him.

The two dogs slowly began to walk towards the gate. Then Rocky started to trot ahead of Brutus, occasionally looking back to encourage him. “Come on, speed up!” He barked.

Follow me Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus looked hesitant, he always needed lots of encouragement to do things he wasn’t sure about. He watched Rocky who had stopped trotting but was gesturing him to move towards him. He had to step over the gate in order to be accepted into Rainbow Bridge, there really was no other way.

Meanwhile, the Italian greyhounds and Vader the boxer were lined up just on the other side of the gate, watching and willing him to start trotting.

“I want my Mum…” Brutus started to cry, his entire body trembling.

Madam Gigi knew that Brutus thrived on encouragement and applause and she also knew that from the old days of lure coursing, even when Brutus took a wrong turn and crashed through the barriers, that the love and praise from his human Mum was enough to make him think that he had ‘won’.

“Come on Brutus! You can do it! You entered the fastest dog in Australia competition – you did so well. Come on lad, you can do it!” Madam Gigi started barking at the top of her voice.

And it didn’t take long before the others started to catch on and shout out encouragement at Brutus who was still mumbling to himself ‘I want my Mum!’

“You can do it Brutus! Come on the Goodest Boy!” Fat Harry shouted in his high pitched Italian greyhound voice.

“Come on Brutus, it won’t hurt we promise, try and run through the gates!’ Augie cried through cupped paws to try and make himself sound louder. Just for the record, if you want to know how an Italian greyhound talks, just imagine breathing in some helium and then talking. That’s exactly how they sound.

“OMG, is that Madam Gigi, Fat Harry, Augie, Dash and the gang!” Brutus beamed at Rocky.

Rocky said nothing but nodded in the direction of the gate and Brutus not only recognised his Iggy friends, but could also a solid tan and white boxer dog who was standing right at the front of them.

“Vader, that’s Vader!” Brutus howled. Vader was Brutus’s best friend and had crossed to Rainbow Bridge a couple of years ago leaving Brutus utterly lost without his flappy jowled mate.

Taking a deep breath, Brutus started to trot towards the gate of Rainbow Bridge. As he got closer to Bowie the greyhound, Bowie gave him a wink and a salute as he passed him.

He was nervous at first, of course he was but with each stride he got faster, more athletic and very quickly he realised that there was no more pain to hold him back.

Once Brutus was over the other side of the gates, he was greeted by his best friend Vader the boxer and his Italian greyhound friends that had passed years before him and it were as though they had never been apart.

Together again – Vader and Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Bowie the greyhound smiled at the emotional scenes from behind the gate. Then picking up his special mobile phone, he made the final important call before he could close out on this job.

“Hello, is that Pippin? – It’s Bowie…..”

Pippin’s House

Pippin the Italian greyhound was sitting in his living room. Wearing a red and gold velvet smoking jacket, he was sipping on a glass of whippet whiskey (that’s a special whiskey for pointy snouted dogs) while reading a dog magazine. Now an older, more distinguished gentlemen, he was once a good friend of Brutus and they had gone through many escapades together and visited each others homes on several occasions.

Pippin and Brutus – pic taken the day that Rocky died
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Pippin jumped as his phone rang. Being head of the Iggy club, he had a direct line to Rainbow Bridge and was always the first to be told when dogs had crossed over.

“Hello, Pippin speaking.” He answered in his posh clipped English accent – I always said that he could announce the war with his voice. He dabbed his pointy snout with his handkerchief and was about to take a sip of his drink.

“I see, Yes I shall let the others know….” Pippin said quietly and then ended the call. Then wiping his eyes, he started to compose a text message to the Iggy gang which simply read, ‘The Goodest Boy has landed’.

Kevin

It was a few days after that Brutus had gone to Rainbow Bridge and Kevin had been showing signs of distress.His veterinary behaviourist had advised to let Kevin see Brutus’s body afterwards which is what we did.

Initially he didn’t show any interest but after about ten minutes, he cuddled up to his brother and remained there until the vet took him away.

We were also advised to leave the blanket, collar and toys for Kevin. Unfortunately in hindsight, we removed them too soon and Kev got so upset that he attacked myself and my husband so they were quickly reinstated on the sofa.

One particular evening, Kevin was in the living room watching out of the window. The Mitzi was parked in its usual place in the carport. The kennel and bed outside had been turned round to face the wall and the box of toys placed next to it. The garden had an eerie silence about it and it was hard to believe that just a few weeks ago, Brutus would be joyously running around the car to greet his human Dad.

“There is no-one to run around the Mitzi anymore. I would love to see one last run around the Mitzi” Kevin said to nobody in particular. He was lonely, so very lonely and wasn’t doing so well as an only pet.

“Wanna bet?” A voice sounded from outside.

“Who said that?” Kevin startled. Then he heard the sounds of nails scraping outside in the garden and noises of panting from exertion.

Straining his eyes to look through the door, he saw Brutus running around the Mitzi while Rocky the kelpie chased him.

Rocky and Brutus
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“What’s that noise I can hear?” His Mum asked him as she placed a cup of tea down on the table. Pulling the blinds aside, she looked out of the window and unable to see anything, she sat down on the sofa.

“Just another run around the Mitzi.” Kevin laughed to himself then as he turned round to look out of the window again, he saw that Brutus and Rocky were no longer there.

The Latest on Kevin

Kevin is slowly getting better. He initially retreated to his room, his aggression ramped up and his separation anxiety was and still is pretty severe. We have seen him on the security camera pacing around the living room, meowing and showing signs of distress. My neighbour brings her little dog to the house to play with him which is doing wonders for his confidence.

As for the humans Brutus left behind

There is a huge Brutus sized gap in our lives and home where he once was and if I thought that I cried heaps over Rocky, well my grief at losing Brutus was on another level.

I guess I just didn’t see it coming really. He was 9.5 years old, a fit and athletic dog and we just thought it was the start of arthritis and certainly not bone cancer.

I do take comfort in the fact that we didn’t let him suffer and he had a pain free and dignified ending with his family at home and being fed up until he was sedated (sedation given before his final injection). I am even more grateful for the way that he looked at me before he went to sleep and gave my face a good lick – that is a precious memory I will keep forever.

I have often asked myself why we put ourselves through this when the loss of a pet is so painful. Would I have changed anything if I could turn the clock back? Well the answer is no, absolutely not.

Because Brutus led me to meet some fantastic people and their Iggies at the Italian Greyhound Club. If it wasn’t for Brutus, I would not have met Cathy from CJ Animal Rescue – who is one of the most incredible women I have met. I would not have moved to my current house and met my neighbour and friend Lexie and her dog Vader the boxer who was Brutus’s best friend. And if I hadn’t have met Vader, I would never have written and published my book ‘Planet Iggy’.

Brutus took me on the most wonderful journey of pet ownership. He was such a kind, gentle and funny dog and he didn’t have a mean bone in his body and I was so lucky to have been his owner. My husband and I were pretty grateful that we were the last people that Brutus saw, heard, smelt and felt as he left us, surrounded by his favourite toys and veterinary staff.

Dedicated to Brutus – the Goodest Boy in the Land – thank you for being our dog.

Brutus – The Goodest Boy in the Land
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright February 2023

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Dr Lucy and Nurse Christine and the staff from Spearwood Veterinary Hospital for their professionalism and kindness that they have consistently shown to us and our pets. I would also like to thank Cath from CJ Animal Rescue – just for everything really.

And everyone else that supported us during that time including our Facebook and Insta supporters – too many to mention really but they know who they are.

Finally – I would like to acknowledge the fantastic work that Beyond Blue Australia do. The 20 minute telephone counselling sessions can make a huge difference when you are feeling overwhelmed with grief.

Boxers, Flappy Jowls and Canine Friendships

Posted on March 15, 2022 by Samantha Rose

Vader and Brutus, a prime example of a good friendship between dogs – Photograph by Samantha Rose

For those of you that have been following my stories, will know that Vader the boxer and my dog Brutus have pretty much grown up together and have been best friends right from the start. The things that these boys have got up to have been nothing short of entertaining and on occasions, embarrassing – involving snot, farts, belches and lots of mutual humping of each others heads.

Vader like many boxers, is often misunderstood by other breeds of dog and because of his snub nose and noisy breathing, he can sound pretty aggressive when in fact he just wants to play. Except for when he doesn’t want to play and he wants to start a fight instead, totally forgetting that because he doesn’t have much of a ‘face’, he can’t even defend himself when the dog that he is winding up; retaliates.

He has often called other dogs ‘Wankers’ and other such insults and Brutus being the coward that he is, would frequently pretend to be blind, deaf, elderly or just hide behind a tree so that he wouldn’t get beaten up. Of course when they were in the basketball courts in our local park, it was ‘game-on’ because both boys were safe in the knowledge that no other dog could get to them.

This usually ended up with the boys doing some fence-fighting which is actually a favourite hobby for many dogs – it involves dogs from both sides of the enclosure, running up and down the fence and threatening each other while yelling stuff about their mothers being a mongrel with no collar from the streets.

Fence Fighting – you can be as brave as you like when the other dogs can’t get to you Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus’s second birthday party with Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Whenever the dogs had time apart or didn’t see each other for a while, Brutus liked to sit right next to the dividing fence where he would find some kind of comfort when he heard his flappy jowled friend snorting or barking from his garden. I have many pictures of Brutus sitting by the fence like a stalker, the photo below is just one of them.

Pic taken a few years back now but this is Brutus sitting by the fence because he could hear Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

And then they got old….

The years went by, life happened, COVID and lockdown happened and they didn’t see each other as often as they once did. But on Brutus’s 9th birthday last year, Vader was invited over to our house to celebrate Brutus’s birthday party. Well I say birthday party, it was a party for two because Vader and Brutus didn’t need anyone else as a third dog would have just messed up the dynamics.

Brutus and Vader at Brutus’s 9th birthday party in Nov 2021 – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus had been ready for Vader’s arrival for ages. He had checked himself in the mirror three times, smoothed down his grey muzzle and had tried to put black shoe polish on his face to make himself look younger. Once he had heard me bring Vader through the garage door and into the back garden, Brutus impatiently wagged his tail and started doing his high pitched squeals that he has never grown out of doing when he gets excited.

“Vader!” Brutus grinned and went to body slam his old friend as he hadn’t seen him for a long time. “Wanna pee on my head?……” Brutus’s voice trailed off as he saw his mate limp slowly over to him and acknowledge him with a feeble wag of his tail.

“What’s happened to you?” Brutus barked in shock and double checked that it was the same Vader – his oldest and ‘bestest’ friend in the world.

“Old age and illness, that’s what!” Vader puffed and then suddenly looking confused, he said “Where am I?” before slowly walking over to the grass to have a crap.

Brutus laughed, “What do you mean? You know where you are! You are funny Vader, I have missed you. Fancy a game of chase on the limestone wall for old times sake?”

“What’s that over there?” Vader growled at some leaves in the corner.

Brutus frowned, “Are you OK?” At 9 years old himself, he was no spring chicken but he still could run fast, jump and pull magpies out of trees (yes, that was not his finest moment).

Vader looked up and grinned, “I am OK, let’s play!” But as soon as he had said it, he took a deep breath and then cocked his head to the side. “Where am I again?” He muttered at no-one in particular, “Oh look – there’s some poo on the grass, is that mine? It’s massive!”

Desperate to play with his friend, Brutus kept nudging him to react.

But Vader just stood over the water bowl by the garden tap gulping down some water, only occasionally looking up at a crestfallen Brutus who simply could not understand why Vader didn’t want to play with him.

Vader – Photo taken November 2021 – Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Hey do you remember when we did a fence fight with those two husky dogs and they threatened to eat us?” Brutus barked excitedly. Vader said nothing, his cloudy eyes stared vacantly up at the sky.

Brutus tried to think of happy memories to tell Vader to try and make him remember things. “Do you remember when we got arrested with a violent gang of whippets and taken to the police station for robbing the pet store?” He said desperately. This wasn’t going the way he had planned, Vader was behaving so oddly that Brutus didn’t know what to make of it.

“That didn’t happen, did it?” Vader suddenly piped up, momentarily remembering where he was.

Shrugging, Brutus said that no, perhaps it didn’t, but it would have been fun had it really happened. He was clutching at straws now, wanting to have the Vader back that he knew and loved.

I could see how frustrated Brutus was. He kept nudging him, pawing him, gifting him his fluffy snake and when that didn’t work, he brought out the rubber pig – he never brings out the rubber pig.

Vader’s breathing was strained as he bent down, had another big drink and then stared up at the sky as he once again had checked out of reality while the water dribbled out of his mouth. Brutus was quick to wash Vader’s face as he always had done in the past. The two boys would often clean each others faces and enjoyed doing so as well.

A good jowl cleaning for Vader – Photograph by Samantha Rose

And once Brutus realised that Vader wasn’t well and not up to playing, there was no consoling him as he barked frantically and circled the grizzled elderly boxer dog. In the end he was so upset that I had to put him inside and take Vader back home.

14th December 2021

Brutus was in the garden laying on his bed. The sun had warmed him up quite nicely and he was enjoying reading his favourite dog magazine ‘Naughty Whippets with No Collars’. He was about to turn the page when he heard a husky voice say “Hey Brutus, are you there?”

That was Vader! He must be feeling better Brutus thought. He felt immense relief just to hear Vader’s voice. Maybe he could come round for another playdate?

“Are you OK?” Brutus whispered through the gap in the dividing fence. If he squinted, he could just make out Vader’s cloudy eyes staring back at him,

“I’ve just farted.” Vader snorted and then after a few minutes straining, Vader pushed out another loud fart, causing Brutus to laugh and let out a fart as well. And just for a few minutes, things were back to normal and the worries about Vader’s confusion and sickness were forgotten as the boys enjoyed some ‘toilet humour’.

“You have been my best friend you know, you do realise that don’t you?” Vader barked. It wasn’t a strong bark, but it was his unmistakable ‘rusty dog bark’ that was unique to him.

“Yes and you are mine as well. You were there for me when Rocky died and Gordon the cat too. Mates for life that’s what we are. When you are better you can come round to my house and shit in my garden just like the old times!” Brutus said happily.

Taking a big breath, Vader said, “Well – that’s what I want to talk to you about, while I can still remember who I am of course………”

Later that day

“Brutus, dinner time!” I said to him. Normally he does his own little happy dance at meal times which involves him dancing from paw to paw and throwing in a couple of twirls and some bounces because he gets so excited.

But this time he took his time and walked slowly towards the living room door and ate his dinner before jumping up on to the sofa where he remained for several hours until I had to force him out for his bedtime pee.

His brother Kevin (the bastard) usually takes immense pleasure in winding Brutus up and bullying him from his prime position on the sofa but as though sensing something was up, Kevin sat quietly next to Brutus while just occasionally looking at him to see if he was OK. No words were said between the two of them, but Brutus appeared to be grateful for the little ginger cats company.

15th December 2021

Vader was sitting by the door in his house. He had forgotten where he was again but thought that if he stayed by the door and stared at his human siblings, it might help him remember stuff like who he is and what his purpose is. He loved his human siblings so much – mainly because they fed him their leftovers, but they were his family and he was very protective of them.

Vader does have three cats and a little dog sister called Trixie that he lives with – he loved them of course but not as much as his tiny humans. Even in his moments of confusion there is one thing that always remained constant and that was he knew that his tiny humans needed him and he loved them right back.

He saw both children eating their breakfast and wondered what kind of adults they would grow in to and how many dogs they might have in their lives after he had gone. “Who am I? What should I do?” Vader whispered and then looked up at his Mum Lexie for the answers before silently pleading with her, “Help me, I am done here.”

6:33am – I had not long woken up and was getting ready for work. I heard my phone beep and saw that it was a message from Lexie letting me know that she was sending Vader to Rainbow Bridge that morning and if I wanted to come and say goodbye then I was welcome to go round.

I just pulled on some clothes and as I was about to rush out of the door, I looked at Brutus who was curled up on his bed staring right back at me. He knew where I was going, I just know that he knew.

“He might not know who you are, he is pretty confused.” Lexie said to prepare me. But as soon as Vader heard my voice, he took some unsteady steps to come and greet me.

“Well good morning! It’s a lovely day to be going to Rainbow Bridge don’t you think?” Vader said happily. He looked so old and tired. I allowed myself to imagine his arrival at Rainbow Bridge and how he would be received and who would greet him – maybe even my Rocky dog. Then turning round to Lexie, I started to cry.

“Don’t be sad, I’m not!” Vader smiled and pressed himself into my legs and allowed me to pet him.

“Goodbye old boy, it’s your time now.” I said quietly. Then hugging Lexie, I walked to the front door leaving Vader saying, “Where am I? Am I there yet?”

Rainbow Bridge

Bowie the big white greyhound – otherwise known as ‘The Gatekeeper’ of Rainbow Bridge, sat by the gates with his clipboard while chewing on his pen. “Rex, we have one more coming and then we can knock off!” Bowie spoke in a posh accent and looked down to where Rex was standing.

Rex the Jack Russell, nodded and smartened himself up for the final arrival. He wore a tweed peaked cap on his little head, his tan and white coat glistened in the sun and his blue leather studded collar completed the image. He looked the perfect advert for a healthy dog.

Glancing at a couple of clouds, Rex couldn’t see any signs of the new arrival. But as with all animals that enter Rainbow Bridge, they are often heard long before they are seen and this one was no different.

“Where am I? Am I there yet? What’s my name?” An old croaky voice could be heard from behind the clouds.

“You will find out, just follow me – it’s just behind this big cloud on the left.” A kind and patient voice could be heard talking back to the croaky voice. “Oh Lord, was that you?” The voice coughed and gagged as a loud fart sounded from behind the clouds.

“That wasn’t from my bum!” The croaky voice replied, “What’s my name?”

Rex and Bowie fell silent as the clouds parted and an old boxer dog limped up to the gate followed by a beautiful cream Saluki guiding him. With each step, he farted, laughed and asked where he was and who he was and just who had made that smell.

“Hello, mate – I don’t suppose you know where I am do you or even who I am. I am buggered if I know!” The old dog asked Bowie.

Bowie smiled, “Your name is Vader the boxer – Welcome to Rainbow Bridge. Rex, can you take him through please?”

“Follow me lad.” Rex said in a strong Yorkshire accent. He added, “If we get a move on, you can join in the games on the grass and I believe there are lots of treats, dog beer and sausages for afterwards.”

Vader looked at the dogs having fun in the distance. Some where chasing balls, some were digging holes, others were chasing butterflies and a cheeky young Schnauzer was running along the field with a string of sausages in his mouth while shouting ‘Catch me if you can!’

Cat’s lounged in trees and on benches, some chased rabbits – but never caught them, some bicycled furiously with their hind legs while kicking toys and some just enjoyed being where they were and living in the moment.

It really was a spectacular scene, peaceful, harmonious with each animal comfortable in the company of the others.

“Oh I don’t think I can do that, I am breathless and my joints hurt and I haven’t felt like eating properly in a while.” Vader apologised.

Rex laughed, “Trust me me lad, you are going to be just fine….”

As Vader walked with Rex through the gates to the other side, he found that he could breathe a little easier, walk with less pain and with each step that he took, he became younger and fitter as though he had never been sick. He carried on farting of course, but then some things never change do they?

A little black kelpie had stopped playing with his tennis ball and had started to walk towards Vader. It was Rocky – my dog who had gone to Rainbow Bridge in September 2018.

My Rocky dog – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Let me explain about Rocky and Vader. There was never any love lost between them and they would regularly bark, growl and trade insults from either side of the fence.

They marginally tolerated each other on walks although Rocky did go for a dog that went to attack Vader on the beach one day. So there must have been some low level friendship there. Rocky would go mad just hearing Vader snorting and Vader used to wind Rocky up a treat by fence snuffling or pissing up our gate causing Rocky to bristle with disapproval.

It took a few seconds for Vader to notice Rocky who like every animal at Rainbow Bridge, was young, fit and healthy.

The two dogs squared up to each other and held direct eye contact. Tails erect, body posture stiff as they sniffed the air around them.

“Ey up Bowie, I think it might kick off over here with the boxer and the kelpie!” Rex said to Bowie on his mobile (yes they have special doggy mobiles at Rainbow Bridge).

“No they won’t.” Bowie said confidently, “They will find their dynamic – just leave them.”

“Are you sure?” Rex asked in a concerned voice.

“Absolutely.” Bowie replied and ended the call.

“Vader!” Rocky said without taking his eyes off him.

“Rocky!” Vader barked right back.

The two dogs gave each other a couple of shoves – as if testing their strength while Rex nervously watched on, still clutching his mobile phone.

Then as quickly as it started, the shoving stopped and both dogs started to play-bow to each other with their tails wagging high. They pranced, jumped and played together for a few minutes before Rocky said, “Fancy chasing some rabbits?”

As they walked off leaving a relieved Rex to report back to Bowie the greyhound, Rocky could be heard saying, “I never really hated you Vader.”

“I never hated you either, in fact I missed you when you left…” Vader admitted.

“Friends?” Rocky declared.

“Friends!” Vader barked back, “Now let’s go and chase some rabbits!”

Brutus

A couple of hours after Vader had left, Brutus dutifully took position by the dividing fence where once he realised that Vader was no longer there, he proceeded to cry for quite some time.

“Brutus?” Kevin asked him later that evening.

“Yes Kevin,” he sighed.

“Rainbow Bridge must be a pretty cool place to be.” Kevin said matter-of-factly.

“What makes you say that?” Brutus said sadly.

“Because we all go there eventually!” Kevin replied cheerfully and started to wash his bum.

And although Brutus was upset at losing his best friend, he knew that Kevin was right.

Kevin gives Brutus his words of wisdom – Photograph by Samantha Rose

The End

Dedicated to Vader the boxer

This special dog found a way into my heart the very first time that I met him. Brutus and I would call round to Lexie’s for our evening walks and the boys would come back exhausted from their escapades.

They were also regulars on the lure coursing field at Guildford Polo Grounds. They never won of course, they were too busy play fighting on the field to win anything. Vader’s jowls flapping in the breeze like inflated shopping bags as he ran. While Brutus thought that everyone was there just to cheer him on. It kind of became a highlight if anyone managed to get a photograph of them.

Brutus and Vader lure coursing – well trying to. Photograph by Studio Joy

I could always hear Vader before I could see him, his snuffle breathing, snorting and his farting. We had a standing joke that when he came to my house, he would do at least four shits in my garden. Lexie would even send him over with a supply of poo bags. I never knew how one dog could hold so much turd and save it up for my garden, I could imagine Brutus proudly cheering him on while doing it.

Vader didn’t like men, he was nervous of them. We would laugh at him barking and growling at my husband who was minding his own business in the living room. Vader would be in our garden, wiping his snotty nose on our window thinking that he owned the place – he did really, well at least in his eyes.

Anyway, I have only just been able to write this blog and even then I have cried while writing it. In case you didn’t know, Vader was actually in my book ‘Planet Iggy’. he inspired me to write so many chapters and played starring roles in some of the short stories.

I honestly believe that had I not met Vader and Lexie, I would never have met the Italian greyhounds and their lovely owners. Which means that I would never have written Planet Iggy either, as Vader’s antics with Brutus fired up my imagination in such a way that it made me look forward to escaping into my own magical little world of talking dogs.

This blog is dedicated to Vader the boxer – the Goodest Boy in the Land

Vader the Good Boy – Photograph by Samantha Rose

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright March 2022

Petunia – Run Free and Climb High

Posted on December 23, 2020 by Samantha Rose

Petunia the Persian has been through some pretty serious health struggles in her short life and had managed to beat a horrible disease called FIP (Feline Infectious Peritonitis) and everyone was so proud of her for doing so.

Her humans had bought her a wonderful cat tree and Petunia had been learning to jump to the top. Not blessed with the agility and fitness that most cats have, even getting to the top of her tree was a huge achievement even if it did take her several attempts to do it.

Petunia had a long-distance boyfriend which is my cat Kevin. Kevin had been obsessed with the beautiful little Persian cat and had taken to calling and messaging her every day to see how she was going. And before you laugh, yes – cats can do stuff like that and have active social lives like anyone else. You just have to believe in it, that’s all because once you start believing in your animals, anything is possible – just you ask my Kevin.

Anyway, one day Petunia hadn’t been feeling very well and had been suffering from breathlessness. She had been on the phone to her mates in WA and had told Oliver (the CEO of Raw Meow) all about it.

Oliver – the CEO of Raw Meow. He just knows stuff and is an educated cat Photograph by Emax Photography

“You do know you need to go and see the vet don’t you Petunia?” Oliver said firmly and then added, “And you need to do this quickly.” Oliver is always the voice of reason and he just seems to know about stuff.

Petunia sighed and replied that a vet appointment had already been made by her human for later that day.

“Look, I had better go Oliver, I need to call Kevin and let him know.” Petunia sounded breathless.

“Ah yes, Kevin – good idea.” Oliver replied.

And as Petunia ended the call, she composed herself and found Kevin’s number on her mobile. A picture of Petunia and Kevin flashed up under his name. It was taken last Christmas when Kevin had a party at his house and Petunia had ended up joining them.

At Kevin’s House

Kevin and his canine brother Brutus were playing a game of cards. Kevin being a dab hand at card games, always manages to beat Brutus which makes Brutus cry and demand a rematch which of course he never wins.

Brutus is no ‘card shark’ Photograph by Samantha Rose

“It’s your hand big fella but if you could hurry up because I know I am going to win so we may as well get it over with!” Kevin smirked at Brutus who was wearing a baseball cap back to front and a satin waistcoat. The silly dog had been told by his boxer friend Vader, that all serious gamblers wore satin waistcoats and baseball caps back to front and Brutus believed him as well.

Before Kevin had chance to say anything else, his mobile phone rang. Glancing down, he saw Petunia’s picture flash up on his phone.

“Petunia! How are you?” Kevin dropped the cards on the table and gestured to Brutus that the game was over leaving Brutus looking confused and asking if that meant that he had won. Brutus isn’t the smartest of dogs as you may have gathered but he does have a huge kind heart and that’s what counts.

Kevin’s grumpy voice softened when he spoke to Petunia, it always did because he liked her and even his friends Tuxedo Cat, Teddy and Oliver would laugh at him about it.

But whatever Petunia was saying to him, it certainly wasn’t making Kevin smile, in fact it was quite the opposite.

“You will be OK, won’t you Petunia?” Kevin stuttered down the phone. “Promise to let me know what happens?”

“Everything OK?” Brutus asked Kevin when he had finished on the phone.

“I hope so, I don’t know actually, I have a funny feeling.” Kevin frowned. Funny feelings are not alien to him as he is an anxious cat and gets upset at most things, but this feeling was different and Kevin didn’t like it one bit.

“Let’s take your mind off it. What do you fancy doing?” Brutus asked him.

“Can you just sit with me and we watch the birds for a bit?” Kevin said as he puffed air out of his cheeks.

“Sounds good to me.” Brutus replied simply and the two of them sat at the dining room window and watched a gang of raucous parrots have a parrot meeting in the palm tree outside.

Brutus and Kevin, Photograph by Samantha Rose

Petunia

Petunia had arrived at the vet and her breathing had deteriorated and the vet had told her humans that she had fluid on her heart. It was decided that she would stay in the vet hospital overnight to keep an eye on her.

With nothing but her thoughts for company, Petunia didn’t even have the energy to call Oliver or Kevin to let them know how she was. She hoped they would understand, she was sure that they would.

As she lay in her hospital cage, Petunia heard a little cough which made her startle. Looking up she saw a handsome ginger cat with a white bow tie on around his neck. He sat on a trolley outside Petunia’s cage and appeared to be making notes on a notepad.

“Excuse me, but who are you?” Petunia asked him politely.

“The name is Gordon and I have come to see if you are ready, you must be Petunia?” The cat smiled warmly and continued to write things down on the notepad.

“Ready? What for? I don’t understand?” Petunia frowned. Then as though it was all too much for her, she started coughing and couldn’t get her breath.

“Hmm, that’s not good. You certainly sound and look as though you are ready!” Gordon nodded approvingly, “Shall we go now? Come on, time is ticking!”

“Go where? I can’t go anywhere. I am poorly and my human will be seeing me tomorrow and I can’t possibly miss that!” Petunia said with a husky meow as she tried to take a deep breath.

Gordon looked at Petunia’s hospital cage and as if by magic, the door opened all by itself. The big handsome ginger cat winked at Petunia, “Trust me – come on and hold my paw, nothing to be afraid of, I promise!”

As a frail and weakened Petunia stood up with the help of Gordon, she touched his paw as he had requested. Looking at Gordon for further reassurance, Petunia felt herself go dizzy and the last thing she remembered, was Gordon saying “Come along, that’s my girl!”

The New Arrival

A large white greyhound stood at some huge iron gates. He looked jolly important as he checked a list on his clipboard. He wore a bright purple leather and velvet collar with a brass name tag attached to the collar with ‘Bowie’ engraved on it.

A handsome young tabby cat with a white vest and four white socks, weaved in and out of the greyhound’s long legs, occasionally rubbing his head on him. With his tail held high in the air twitching, the cat kept kneading the grass with his front paws as though he were making biscuits.

“Are there many left to come?” The tabby cat asked Bowie the greyhound.

Bowie smiled, “Just one left. The others came this morning. You can go and tell everyone to get ready for the last one if you don’t mind?”

The tabby gave a paws-up gesture and ran through the gates to do his favourite part of the job – announce all the new arrivals.

Bowie yawned and did one of those greyhound stretches which looks like a play-bow when they stick their bums in the air. Letting out a quick and unexpected fart, Bowie coughed “Excuse me!” and quickly checked to see that nobody had heard him.

Suddenly he could hear the sounds of someone arriving. Composing himself, he stood up and straightened his collar and made sure that he was neat and tidy.

“Hi Bowie, this is Petunia. She is the final one due in today!” Gordon gave Bowie a friendly head-boop to greet him.

“I don’t understand, where am I?” Petunia cried as she leaned on to Gordon for support.

Taking a deep breath, Bowie bent down so that the little cat could see him better. “Hello Petunia, welcome to Rainbow Bridge. My name is Bowie the greyhound and I am the gatekeeper of The Bridge.”

“I am at Rainbow Bridge? But what about my human’s? What about my friends and Kevin?” Petunia cried.

It took a few minutes for Bowie and Gordon to explain to her that her body had run out of time and it was no longer possible for her spirit to live in it. He explained how we all have a certain amount of time with our humans – it may or may not be for as long as we would like, but whatever the amount of time spent with them, is precious and always for a good reason.

But when it is time to go to Rainbow Bridge, that is when you leave all your pain and illness behind and get a new lease of life. A life where you can eat what you like, chase birds and butterflies yet never hurt them. A life where nothing hurts ever again and occasionally, you can take a peak to see what your beloved humans are doing and be able to keep an eye on them until the next pet arrives.

“Do you understand Petunia?” Bowie asked her gently.

“I think so….” Petunia sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“Right then, ready to go through the gates?” Gordon asked her.

“I can’t breathe very well, I not sure if I can to be honest.” Petunia sounded doubtful.

“Try it, you might surprise yourself. I know I did when I went through myself a few years back!” Gordon encouraged her.

Petunia mustered up all of her energy and with a little help from Bowie’s super long greyhound snout, she managed to get up as Gordon and Bowie helped her to get through the gates.

Once she had passed through them, she gasped at what she saw. Cats everywhere, playing with toys, climbing on trees, running through tunnels, chasing rabbits and butterflies and having the time of their lives. It really did look beautiful and the temptation to investigate was almost too strong for Petunia to resist.

“What do I tell Kevin? He won’t understand why I haven’t come back. I know the vet will tell my human, but who tells Kevin?” Petunia panicked.

“You leave Kevin to me, I can sort him out!” Gordon gave a firm nod, “Now go and meet your new friends, it looks like they are waiting for you to join them for dinner.”

Petunia watched as the group of cats smiled at her and pointed to an abundance of delicious food including sardines, pilchards, salmon, prawns and steak. She had never seen so much food in all her life.

“Are you sure I can do it? Will I be OK?” Petunia asked him.

“Positive and you will be just fine!” Gordon replied and watched Petunia slowly start to walk to where the cats were waiting for her and with each step she took, her breathing got better until not being able to breath, was merely a distant memory.

“Are we done for the day?” Bowie asked Gordon.

“Not quite, I have a quick visit to make. Save me some prawns – I’ll be back shortly.” Gordon said and gave a mock salute to Bowie before disappearing.

While Bowie shut the gates for the evening, Petunia played with her new friends. There was no shortness of breath, no pain or low energy and for the first time in her life, she could not only jump high but she could climb to the top of the tallest tree with the agility of a cheetah.

Kevin

Kevin was in his bedroom. He had felt unsettled since hearing that Petunia was unwell and when he felt like that, he was just best with his own company.

Curled up on the top of his cat tree, he stared out of the window trying to think about what to do. It was an awful feeling of being helpless and even his friend Oliver couldn’t placate him.

Kevin sighed and blinked a few times and yawned. Then opening his eyes, he saw something that nearly caused him to fall off his cat tree as he noticed a big ginger cat sat in his basket like he owned it.

“How the bloody hell did you get in here? Who are you?” Kevin shouted. He looked out of the window and saw Brutus chasing some magpies, “Brutus help me, there is a cat in my room!” Kevin screeched. Except that Brutus could not hear him or even realise that he was there and no matter how much Kevin scrabbled at the window, he seemed invisible to Brutus in the garden.

“You don’t remember me do you?” The ginger cat laughed and then picked up a tatty old blue crackle mouse from Kevin’s toy box. “This mouse was my favourite when I lived in here and this grey basket is just as comfy as I remember it!” Gordon started to noisily suckle on the old toy mouse and blissfully closed his eyes for a few minutes.

“But I don’t get it…..” Kevin cried, And that is MY mouse you are sucking on!”

Gordon suddenly remembered where he was and opened his eyes. Dropping the now soggy toy mouse on the floor, he explained to Kevin, “My name is Gordon and this was my house before it was yours and when I went to Rainbow Bridge, I guided you to this family because I knew you would be looked after. That is how it works you see, when a human loses one pet, that pet guides the next one and the right one into their lives.”

Kevin frowned but after a few minutes, he smiled in recognition, “Gordon – Oh my God, I remember you now! My humans spoke of you all the time. What are you doing here?” Kevin jumped off his cat tree on to the ground and sat opposite Gordon.

“I have a message for you and it’s about Petunia…”

Kevin started to cry as the realisation of why Gordon was here dawned on him. “No, I don’t want to hear it! I know what you are going to say, please don’t!” Shutting his eyes and shaking his head in protest, Kevin thought that if he stopped Gordon from saying it, then it hadn’t happened.

Gordon sat with Kevin for some time as he explained to the distraught cat about how Petunia had finished her time here with her humans and had to go for a new lease of health and life at Rainbow Bridge. He went on to tell Kevin how Petunia could now climb the highest of trees and eat all the fish and meat that she wanted. Because she had been through so much in her short life and being at such a marvellous place like Rainbow Bridge is what she deserved. And knowing all of that, made it a bit easier for Kevin to accept.

Kevin didn’t remember at what point Gordon left him and he didn’t remember falling asleep, nor how long he had been asleep for. But when he did wake up, he was in his grey basket. It was dark in his room and there was no evidence of Gordon ever having been there.

Opening his eyes and blinking a few times, he wondered if he had dreamt the whole thing.

Deciding that he was hungry and it was time for his tea, he got out of his basket and took a long stretch and as he did, he felt something wet underneath his paws. “Ugh, did I vomit and not realise it?” Kevin looked down to see what he had trodden in and saw that it was the blue mouse that Gordon had removed from the toy box and had been suckling on earlier.

“It was real, I didn’t imagine it after all!” Kevin thought to himself, then left his room to find Brutus.

Rainbow Bridge

A beautiful white Persian was holding court to a group of cats. Curled up under a tree in various positions, the cats all chatted and helped themselves to the picnic of fish and steak on the sharing plate on the grass. A small kitten bicycled furiously with his hind legs on a toy rabbit while another chased his tail in between eating small pieces of steak.

“Tell us again Petunia about how your humans loved you so much?” An elderly Maine Coon asked her as the other cats clapped their paws together in excitement.

And so Petunia began to tell them the stories of her humans, her life, her friends and about her boyfriend – a ginger cat called Kevin.

The End

Petunia – her time here was short but she left a big impression and many happy memories for her human Photograph by Julia Sowula

Dedicated to Petunia – a small cat with a huge character

Published with the kind permission of Petunia’s human – Julia Sowula

Samantha Rose – Copyright (C) December 2020

Brutus and the Antique Dog Shop

Posted on August 9, 2020 by Samantha Rose

It’s been almost two years since my darling kelpie Rocky crossed over to Rainbow Bridge – 2 years on 9th September to be precise. I remember that day as though it were yesterday and never did I imagine that losing a pet would hurt that much, it were as though he took a piece of me with him.

Brutus took months and months to find himself after Rocky left before he realised that he could bark at the garbage truck with the best of them. He even learned how to swim in the ocean which is something that we never thought that he would do. Rocky was the swimmer, Brutus was the barker that would give accusing looks if he was made to go in the water. Now Brutus can swim like a fish, although his motive is to catch water birds but that is another story entirely.

So this story is dedicated to the memory of my Rocky dog because this is just what I can imagine him doing.

Sunday afternoon at Brutus’s house

It was a cold, wet and windy Sunday afternoon where most animals would be snuggled up inside their warm kennels or their homes. Kevin was curled up on his cat tree planning on what he would have for his tea. He spent a large part of his day thinking about food and this was a perfectly acceptable way to pass the time for him.

Brutus was standing by the dining room window. He was bored and rather fancied catching up with Vader and Pippin but he knew that they would be up to other things.
Turning round to Kevin, Brutus shouted “Catch you later, I am just going for a walk!” and before Kevin had chance to reply, Brutus had slammed the door and was trotting down the garden path. Kevin barely looked up, in fact I don’t even think that he heard him. “Yes, I am definitely looking forward to my roo meat tonight!” He mumbled to himself and noticing that he was already salivating, he quickly tried to clean the drool off his face with his paws.

Kevin – his life revolves around food. Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus didn’t need to go far to amuse himself. He stopped at the side of the road and checked for cars – just like his human had taught him. Straining his eyes to look at the park, he saw that there were no dogs or people there and it was completely empty.

Making his way to the small row of shops at the edge of the park, Brutus thought that perhaps if he checked the cafe out, he might be able to score a snack of some kind. And you can’t blame him for that as any self respecting dog would do the same.

Sighing, he saw that all the shops were closed – except for one and it was a shop that he had never noticed before. All the same, it was open and Brutus thought he would go and take a sticky beak to pass the time. ‘Antique Dog Toys’ Brutus read the sign on the outside of the shop out loud, “How strange, I wonder when this opened?” Then giving himself a good shake, he decided to go in and see what toys they had on offer.

As he walked in, a loud bell sounded to alert the owner. The shop smelled positively delicious to Brutus, it was a mix of cooked beef, bones, Schmackos dog treats and a touch of excitement. “Wow, where am I?” Brutus gasped and as curiosity got the better of him, he started checking out the shop in more detail.

Heaps of tennis balls, old stuffed toys, rope tugs, frisbees to name but a few, adorned the shelves. There was a shelf with an old cash register on top and a bowl of dog treats was placed next to it. On a lower shelf were old smelly bones that may well make a human look away in disgust, but to any dog – it was like the best thing for them to smell. And the older the bone, the better especially if it has been buried for months and then dug up. Just ask your own dog if you don’t believe me.

Brutus gasped when he noticed in the corner of the shop, was a bright red mini lamp post with a small picket white fence surrounding it in the corner of the shop – it was there for dogs to cock their leg if they chose to. Not Brutus though, he still squats like a female dog.

“How on earth did I not notice this shop before? All these old toys, do they belong to other dogs?” Brutus thought to himself. It was true, the toys didn’t look new at all, far from it. They looked chewed, played with, tatty and some might say, ‘well loved’.

Brutus was so engrossed in looking around this little shop, that he didn’t notice the owner sitting in a leather chair behind the counter. A little black kelpie dog sat on an antique leather chair from behind the counter. Wearing a tweed suit with gold half rimmed spectacles perched right on the edge of his snout, the look was complete with a large gold watch on a chain that was carefully placed in the inside pocket.

The kelpie studied Brutus noting his excitement to be in such a shop. His tail wagging furiously like the propellor of a helicopter, he managed to knock a few tennis balls off the shelf.
Feeling his jowls burn with embarrassment, Brutus frantically tried to grab some of the tennis balls in his mouth. Managing to pick up only two of them, he looked up to see the little kelpie peeking over the top of his gold rimmed spectacles and staring at him.

“Oh my days, no way, it can’t be! Is that you?” Brutus dropped the tennis balls out of his mouth letting them bounce on the floor of the shop.

“Hello Brutus!” The kelpie wagged his tail and jumped off his chair towards Brutus who had his tail tucked in between his legs because he was so overwhelmed.

“Rocky!” Brutus yelped and playfully nudged Rocky in recognition, “It is you! I knew you would come back for me!” As the two dogs greeted each other, their tails wagged so hard that they not only cleared all the tennis balls off the shelves, but managed to knock off a few stuffed toys as well.

“Come on my friend, we have some catching up to do!” Rocky said firmly.

“What if someone comes in and disturbs us?” Brutus frowned.

“They won’t, well they can’t actually.” Rocky replied.

Brutus pondered about asking further questions but didn’t. He had never needed to question Rocky because Rocky knew everything – he had been to Kelpie university you know.
As the storm picked up outside and the rain lashed against the windows of the shop, the two dogs chatted without barely stopping for breath. They didn’t even notice the weather outside because they were so engrossed in each other.

A short while later

“So what’s with all of these old toys? I don’t get it?” Brutus questioned Rocky.

“Well, when a pet crosses over to Rainbow Bridge, their spirit remains in their toys, furniture or anything that they may have loved, chewed or loved sleeping on. Take Kevin for instance.”

“I’d rather not, he is a right bastard!” Brutus muttered.

Rocky laughed and carried on talking. “Kevin is sleeping in that old grey plastic bed that Mum bought for their very first cat Bruno way back in 1995 I think it was.
“That catnip blue mouse with the leg chewed off, well the leg that I chewed off. That belonged to Mums other cat in England called Juniper and then it was handed down to Gordon.”

Brutus cocked his head to the side, “Yes, you are right. Mum has the box of toys that belonged to Gordon and she gave them to Kevin and some of those toys were way back from when they lived in England.”

“It’s not just toys Brutus, it can be anything that the animal loved. Take the food bowls that Mum brought over from England – they belonged to Bruno and Juniper. Gordon used them and now Kevin has them.” Rocky added.

“But what’s the connection with these toys in the shop?” Brutus repeated his question to

Rocky, “What IS this shop?” He pulled off his spectacles from his snout and fiddled with them for a few seconds. Then removing his silken red handkerchief from his pocket, he huffed on his glasses and set about cleaning them.

Once he had done that, he looked at Brutus and said matter-of-factly, “It’s a magic shop of memories because every toy in this store is just that – a memory. They have all belonged to a dog or cat that was loved and has now crossed to Rainbow Bridge.”

“Even the tennis balls?” Brutus questioned and looked at the tatty tennis balls scattered on the floor.

“Especially the tennis balls!” Rocky smiled and placed his spectacles back on the end of his snout.

About ten minutes later Brutus reluctantly stood up. “I guess I had better go home now, Mum will be worried about me.”

“Take care my friend and remember that those you love, never really leave you – we are always around somewhere and our memories appear when you least expect them to.” Rocky gave Brutus a friendly nudge. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do!” Rocky said with a firm nod before jumping back on his leather chair and fiddling with the cash register.

“Goodbye Rocky and thank you!” Brutus smiled at him and walked out of the door. As the door shut behind him, Brutus realised that he had meant to ask Rocky if he would see him again. Turning round to go back in, Brutus was confused to see that the shop that he had just left, was actually nothing but a vacant building with ‘For Rent’ on the front and not the antique store that it was a few minutes ago.

Sounds of thunder rumbled in the distance and it had started to rain heavily again. Brutus shivered and looked at the shop before running home as fast as he could because he hated storms.

Back home

It was a cold and wet Brutus that arrived back home. His Mum hadn’t even noticed that he had gone and Kevin was fast asleep in his basket.

Brutus, always hated the cold weather – Photograph by Samantha Rose

After rubbing his soaking wet body on his blankets to dry himself, Brutus inspected the toy box outside under the pergola. There were dog tugs, tennis balls, Brutus’s old tatty flappy cat which no longer had any stuffing inside, there were cracked rubber dog tugs, old honking pigs without the squeak inside them and a few old scruffy Kong toys that were there before Brutus’s time and had belonged to Rocky as a pup.

Brutus startled as he heard a noise from behind him. Three tennis balls bounced randomly on the concrete – it were as though they had been thrown from the box.

The balls were tatty and fluffed up from where Rocky used to carry them around for hours on end. They had certainly seen better days that’s for sure. But you know what, they were still OK and had some life left in them.

As Brutus carefully picked up the tennis balls one by one, he placed them back in his toy box and went back inside.

The End

Every toy in your pets toy box tells a story and keeps the memory of the last pet that played with it, alive. Especially tennis balls, let’s not forget the tennis balls.

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright August 2020

Petunia and the Kitty Club Show

Posted on April 14, 2020 by Samantha Rose

It is no secret that Kevin has a crush on a little Persian kitten called Petunia and if you haven’t heard about Petunia, then you will have to read my Christmas story where she makes her first appearance and you can meet some of the cats as well. Click here to read the Christmas blog – https://thepigaloodiaries.com/2019/12/19/kevins-christmas/

Petunia had managed to worm her way into Kevin’s heart and Kev had developed a severe case of what is known as ‘mentionitis’ which is where someone mentions something or someone a lot and manages to slip their name into every bit of the conversation.

Anyway, it was a Saturday afternoon and Kevin was playing a game of poker in his room with his friends Oliver, Teddy and Tuxedo Cat. Tuxedo Cat was pretending not to look at Kevin’s cards but was sneaking in a peak despite Oliver flicking disapproving looks at him. Oliver being an honest cat didn’t agree with cheating, well unless there was treats involved – every cat has his/her price.

“Kevin, it’s your turn.” Teddy growled impatiently.

“Petunia isn’t really in to card games, she prefers playing with butterflies.” Kevin said to nobody in particular.

Tuxedo Cat shook his head, “Oh he is hopeless – you go instead Teddy.”

“Did I tell you that Petunia will be coming round tomorrow to share a bowl of meat with me?” Kevin beamed while clumsily shuffling his cards and not particularly caring who saw them either.

“Do you like Petunia? I would never have guessed – except for the zillionth time you have told us!” Tuxedo Cat snapped.

“Don’t exaggerate, I have barely mentioned her!” Kevin screwed his face up, his nose had gone all puffy and pink which always happens when he is angry or upset. “I don’t talk about her too much do I Oliver?”

Shrugging, Oliver said tactfully “No, not at all. Well maybe just a little bit Kevin, well a lot actually.” Then seeing Kevin’s face crumple with dismay, he quickly added “But I totally get it and it makes a change from you being a bastard.”

Teddy did a few exaggerated yawns and patted his mouth with his huge grey paws, “Can we finish the game please!”

“Petunia was wearing a lovely new harness yesterday…….” Kevin started to say before Teddy jumped on him and started to bicycle furiously on Kevin’s head with his hind legs to try and shut him up.

They were so busy play fighting that none of them heard Kevin’s phone ring and none of them saw the messages that came through with Petunia’s face flashing up on Kevin’s phone and by the time that they did, Kevin had missed five calls and 3 messages from her.

‘Kevin – r u home? – Petunia’

‘Kevin – please call me, it’s urgent! – Petunia’

‘I am scared, where are u? – Petunia’

“What the heck? How the bloody hell did I miss that?” Kevin gasped when he finally checked his phone.

“Oh don’t tell me, is that your girlfriend?” Teddy laughed but stopped dead in his tracks when he realized how upset Kevin was.

The four cats huddled together to try and decipher the messages. Oliver being the sensible one of the group, tried to take charge of the situation and calm Kevin down. “The only way you will find out what is wrong is by calling her.”

“He has a point Kevin.” Teddy agreed.

Tuxedo Cat nudged Kev in the ribs, “Go on call her!”

Kevin hesitated before pressing Petunia’s number and waited for her to answer.

“Petunia, it’s me – Kevin…”

While Teddy and Tuxedo Cat amused themselves by knocking off some ornaments from the TV cabinet Oliver stayed close to Kevin to try and make sense of what was going on.

“You have to be OK Petunia,” Kevin stuttered on the phone, “Because I will be upset if you’re not and that will mean I have to bite my human’s legs.”

“Ouch, that doesn’t sound good.” Teddy whispered to Tuxedo Cat.

“Come on old chap, tell us what’s going on!” Oliver said calmly after Kevin finished his call.

“It’s Petunia, she isn’t very well and she needs our help for her vet treatment – we can help can’t we Oliver?”

Oliver took a deep breath, “Time for a meeting everyone!” He said with a loud meow to get everyone’s attention.

Now when a group of cats decide to have a gathering, you had jolly well better take note because they mean business. You know when you can hear cats wailing outside and it sounds like the cats chorus? Well don’t tell them off for making a noise, because they are probably having a meeting over something highly important.

And that is exactly what Oliver, Tuxedo Cat, Teddy and Kevin did – have a crisis meeting. Oliver sat on the kitchen workbench, Kevin, Tuxedo Cat and Teddy sat on the coffee table. It was all pretty intense and I hadn’t seen Kevin look so serious since the Testicle Fairy came and removed his testicles to use as ornaments.

“How can we help her? We are just four ordinary cats, what can we do?” Tuxedo Cat puffed his cheeks and looked hopefully at Oliver for the answer, Oliver usually has the answers to most things in life.

Teddy looked put out, “Speak for yourself because I happen to think we are far from ordinary – that’s what my human says and I believe her too.”

“Some may say we are bloody good looking actually, I have people admiring my pantaloons I’ll have you know!” Kevin added, “And Oliver is on the Raw Meow cat food products so he is a proper model.”

Oliver rubbed his head on the corner of the coffee table a few times to help him think and then abruptly looked up at the others. “That’s it, I’ve got the answer!”

Tuxedo Cat raised his eyebrows and gestured for the other cats to be quiet and listen to what he had to say. Good old Oliver, he could always be relied upon to come up with the goods.

Once Oliver had their undivided attention, he began to describe his fabulous idea to help Petunia.

“A kitty club show, what on earth is that?” Kevin asked him.

“It’s a show for kitties – that’s my guess, is that right Oliver?” Tuxedo Cat replied.

Oliver rubbed his paws together and began to explain. “Yes, it is a show for kitties but in particular, female kitties.

“Let’s face it, we are quite a handsome bunch of lads if I say so myself and we could organize a fine display of movement, climbing cat trees and show off how fit we are and people would pay to see us and that would raise money to help Petunia.”

Teddy grinned, he knew how handsome he was and that some of the Siamese cats in the neighbourhood had sent him letters with stuff like ‘Teddy is a smooch’ or ‘I love the blue boy’ written in them.

“What a bloody good idea Oliver!” Teddy meowed, “What do you reckon Kevin?”

Kevin stood up, adopted what he hoped was his sexiest position and with a cheeky grin he replied, “Let’s do it!”

“Do you think we can pull it off?” Tuxedo Cat whispered to Teddy.

Teddy nodded confidently, “We have got this, we have totally got this.”

Kevin looked back on Petunia’s messages. He felt terrified and excited at the same time. He was terrified that Oliver’s idea may not work and excited about how far his friends were prepared to go in order to help Petunia.

To be continued….

Samantha Rose (C) Copyright April 2020

The cats and their photos have been used with the kind permission of their owners. I have credited the photos according to the Facebook names which may or may not be the real names of the owners’.

The Real Story Behind Petunia

In February 2020, Petunia was diagnosed with a disease called FIP – which stands for Feline Infectious Peritonitis. I have included a link containing information about this disease so you can read up on it for yourself. https://www.vet.cornell.edu/departments-centers-and-institutes/cornell-feline-health-center/health-information/feline-health-topics/feline-infectious-peritonitis

The treatment for this disease is costly (over $2,000) but Petunia’s owner Julia Sowula decided to give her kitten a fighting chance for treatment and started a fundraiser page to help cover the vet bills. Julia is a casual worker and a student but has still managed to pay for some of it herself.

Now Petunia has completed nearly all of her treatment and blood tests so far are showing minimal FIP markers which means that the treatment is working. She still has one vial of treatment to go which costs $215.00 (AUD) and three more blood tests which are $200 (AUD) each.

So why am I so concerned about Petunia? – well I have followed this story right from the beginning and Petunia was in my Christmas 2019 story before this even happened. I have read all of Julia’s Facebook posts detailing Petunia’s progress and updates and I know how hard she is fighting for her little cat and how much she loves her.

Let’s face it, none of us think of our cats getting a disease like FIP and I don’t even know if pet insurances cover it. We are not talking about something that is easily fixed, we are talking about a disease that has a high death rate and if you do try the treatment, it has an 80% success rate and it is expensive. However, what do you do when you love your cat so very much that you would move mountains to try and save them, because you can’t blame someone for trying.

I spent over a $1,000 on my cat Kevin last year for his dental, blood tests and his anti depressant medication. None of it was covered on insurance, we couldn’t afford it and had to pull money from our mortgage. Some people called us stupid and said it was cheaper to buy another cat and yes, it is but we love Kevin and he is not disposable, he is our pet.

That is why I am helping Julia. She is doing her best and I want to see Petunia beat this. So if you can donate anything at all, that would be lovely – it all helps. If you can’t donate, then please share her fundraiser page if you can.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-us-save-princess-petunia?utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer&utm_campaign=p_na+share-sheet&pc_code=ot_co_dashboard_a&rcid=04e284b7abb1427db57d2bf74393c7da&fbclid=IwAR13sQYEATn1JrO52UD1yw60QJWnFowx5QVKfYUP8UWh_XGLLs3mk8_SHF8

Petunia my darling – you can do it, one more treatment, three more blood tests, you’ve got this!

Kevin, Old Cats and Second Chances

Posted on January 4, 2020 by Samantha Rose

Photo by Lenin Estrada on Pexels.com
One day with an old cat is a day to be treasured

It was a cold winters night in Perth and every self-respecting cat with a home, should have been snuggled up at home in the company of his/her humans.

Kevin was asleep on the sofa and Brutus was curled up on his own bed, they were settled and warm as the gas heater was on, they had been fed and were oblivious to anything going on outside their home.

Brutus likes to get respite from Kevin sometimes
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Stroke my belly human!” Kevin yawned, stretched and displayed his belly. His human Dad went to pet his belly and exactly 20.2 seconds later, Kevin grabbed his hand and bit him causing his human to scream out in pain and pull his hand away. “That was too long, you ought to know better than that!”

Brutus was secretly pleased that Kevin was directing his ‘bastardness’ onto the human and not bullying him like he usually does. He had learned to keep one eye closed and the other eye on Kevin and to never be fooled by a sleeping ginger cat.

Anyway, it was a typical cold winters night and all was peaceful in Kevin’s house (we pay the mortgage but it really is Kevin’s house).

A noise outside made Kevin sit up. Brutus took no notice and remained on his bed but Kevin went from sleepy to wide awake in seconds, jumped off the sofa and ran to the dining room window. At first, he couldn’t see anything but once his eyes had adjusted, he noticed a black cat opposite the house, sitting next to the neighbour’s mail box.

Neighbourhood watch with Kevin who likes to yell abuse at stray cats
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“Cheeky bastard!” Kevin muttered. Should he go out and attack him? Probably not, it was far too cold out there and the cat could give him a disease or something, one has to think of these things you know.

Kevin stayed where he was and sat there for a bit to watch the cat. He didn’t recognize him though, maybe he had moved in down the road. After a while, Kevin went off to his room to scoff some of his biscuits and then went back to the dining room to see if the black cat was still there.

He couldn’t see him, where had he gone? Maybe he should call Oliver to see what he should do. Kevin is an ‘act first and think later’ kind of cat and Oliver was good at getting Kevin to think about his actions and what comes out of his potty mouth because let’s face it, he can swear like the best of them.

Suddenly the cat appeared next to the tree by the dining room window. Kevin was still licking his lips after having a feed, you know how cats lick their lips and clean themselves for ages after they have eaten? Kevin was still cleaning the gravy dust off his mouth and it was clear to the other cat that Kevin had just enjoyed something tasty.

Kevin felt his fur bristle up. Closing his eyes and looking up to the ceiling to distract him, he repeated to himself, “I am a good cat, I shall not bite, I shall not swear!” That was Oliver’s mantra that he had taught Kevin as part of his anger management. Stray cats in Kevin’s garden were guaranteed to set him off and this was a test of Kevin’s temper.

Opening just one eye, Kevin slowly moved his head down and checked if the black cat was still there which he was. Then out of curiosity, he opened his other eye and forced himself to get a better look at the cat.

Huddled up by the window, he shivered to keep warm. He had a large hole from an abscess on his head, his ears covered in little rips and cuts. Kevin first thought that the cat was looking at him, but on closer inspection, he was staring right through the dining room window and looking wistfully at the inside of the house.

“Hey, are you stupid! This is MY family and MY house, not yours – never gonna be yours!” Kevin screamed and went on to say how he could beat him up if he wanted to.

Still the cat didn’t move or react in the slightest. He continued to shiver, occasionally lifting his right paw up from the ground and licking it. Kevin noticed the paw was bleeding which is why he kept cleaning it.

Kevin wasn’t used to this. Even in the days of window fighting Tuxedo Cat, he was used to a reaction of some kind but this cat didn’t even acknowledge him and to be honest, Kevin didn’t fancy wasting any more insults on him.

Curiosity got the better of him and he opened the window and jumped outside to talk to the cat. But before he could say anything, he was shocked at what he discovered. The cat was emaciated, his bones were sticking out, his fur spiked up and matted, his nails overgrown, his eyes cloudy and speckled indicating that he was not a youngster.

Eventually the cat acknowledged him, with a rusty meow that usually came with very old cats, he tried to straighten himself up to greet Kevin and with visible discomfort, he extended his damaged paw to greet Kevin. “I am Boris, I hope you don’t mind, but I was just admiring your little family. Lovely set up you have there.”

Kevin looked puzzled, he had never seen a cat looking like this before. Where were his humans? Why was he so skinny and how did he hurt himself?

“Where are your humans?” Kevin asked him. All thoughts of fighting had been forgotten.

Boris puffed the air out of his cheeks and shrugged, “I don’t have any humans. I did have once of course, but they moved away and left me behind when I was 10 years old. I have been living on my own now for 7 years, it’s getting a bit tough now. That’s why I was admiring your family – you hang on to them, you are so lucky.”

Kevin stared at him wide eyed, “You are 17 years old? Strewth, that’s older than me and my brother Brutus put together! How could they leave you like that? My humans would never leave me and trust me, I am a bastard to live with and they still love me.”

Boris gave a little smile, more of a forced smile I suppose. It’s shocking to think of anyone dumping a cat and to imagine a 17-year-old cat still fending for himself and having to fight younger cats on the block, that is heartbreaking.

“How did you hurt yourself?” Kevin checked Boris’s wounds, some of which were bleeding.

“Fighting other cats, they have chased me out of my territory. I have been running for a bit and found myself here. I saw the light on in your house and it looked so nice and safe.” Boris looked tired as he explained his story. “Was that cat biscuit you were eating?”

“Would you like some?” Kevin asked him.

“I would love some but my teeth hurt me a bit, do you have anything soft? Sorry to ask.” Boris looked embarrassed.

“Be right back!” Kevin jumped back through his window, ran into his room to see what he could bring. Picking up some rabbit meat from his bowl that he had been saving for later, Kevin carefully carried it back to Boris who was patiently waiting by the window.

Boris was starving, that much was clear but he couldn’t eat the meat as quickly as he would like because his mouth was hurting him. It took him ages to finish the small amount that Kevin had brought to him but one would think he had been given a banquet by the look of him afterwards.

You all know how territorial Kevin is so what he did next was surprising even for him. He had been so affected by this senior, battered and skinny little cat with no family, that he couldn’t stand to leave him outside. Not having met such an old cat before, even grumpy Kevin knew that he should be treated with respect.

Should he phone Oliver to get his advice? No, he would make what they call an executive decision and invite him inside. He would tell Oliver later, just in case Oliver tried to talk him out of it.

“Can you jump through the window?” Kevin asked Boris and immediately saw that Boris wasn’t going to jump anywhere unless he had help and there was only one way that was going to happen.

“Are you sure about this?” Brutus asked Kevin as he leaned out of the window.

“Perfectly sure and if the humans get upset then I will take the blame.” Kevin promised him. “Now pick Boris up gently by his scruff and DON’T hurt him!”

Boris was too weak and tired to be scared of Brutus. Having been attacked by a particularly nasty Tom cat earlier, he feared nothing because he had no fight left in him and no fear either.

Gently picking up the old frail black cat, Brutus lifted him through the window with ease and placed Boris on the ground as Kevin jumped back in and Brutus shut the window.

The human Dad was asleep on the sofa as Kevin and Boris slowly walked through to Kevin’s bedroom followed by Brutus. “You keep the humans occupied, I will stay with Boris.” Kevin instructed Brutus who gave a paws-up gesture and went back to the living room.

Kevin could see the extent of Boris’s age, poor health and injuries.

Realizing that Kevin was looking at him, Boris felt self-conscious, “I can’t wash myself really, sorry if I smell.”

He did smell, he was worse than a pissy day with Kevin’s pantaloons and you all know how bad they get.

“You don’t smell at all.” Kevin lied and curled up next to him.

“What are you doing?” Boris asked Kevin.

“I can’t imagine not being able to wash myself so I am going to wash you.” Kevin said firmly. Then the fit young feisty ginger cat, set about washing the old frail, smelly kind-hearted older cat and with each lick of the tongue, Kevin had to ignore the stench and made his mind up that he wouldn’t stop until Boris was clean.

Boris didn’t say a word but by the time Kevin had finished grooming him, the old boy had fallen asleep curled up with Kevin behind him to keep him warm and that was where they remained until morning.

The next day

Someone must have changed Kevin over and swapped him with a ‘non-bastard’ cat because it certainly wasn’t the usual Kevin giving his entire breakfast of raw meat to a strange cat.

“Are you sure you don’t want your breakfast?” Boris asked Kevin, his eyes focused at the sight of the bowl of raw cat food. It wasn’t just a feast, it was a banquet for a starving old boy.

Kevin is possessive over his food and has smacked Brutus a few times for trying to steal it but on this occasion, he didn’t mind sharing. After all, he still had his cat biscuit and he knew he was due a raw chicken neck later anyway.

“Plenty to go around!” He said with a mouthful of biscuit and continued to watch Boris enjoying his breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Boris rubbed his tummy, “Mind if I use your litter tray?”

Whilst it is an insult for a strange cat to shit in the litter tray of another, Kevin was prepared to make an allowance on this occasion and gestured for Boris to use it, even helping the old cat to get in there.

“I draw the line at washing your arse though!” Kevin wrinkled his nose, that was worse than one of his and that was saying something

The old cat laughed, “I draw the line at you washing it as well.” He looked at the litter tray and noticed that he hadn’t buried it or more like he couldn’t bury it because he was too stiff and sore.

Sensing Boris’s embarrassment, Kevin jumped in the tray and set about burying where Boris had used the tray, then jumping out and scattering litter everywhere, Kevin winked at him, “This is where we get to run around the room which is what every cat does after taking a crap in the tray!”

“Oh, I am too old for that stuff.” Boris looked enviously at Kevin and wished that he could do all these marvellous things that fit young kitties with loving homes could do.

“Well let’s compromise then.” Kevin suggested and started to kick even more litter everywhere while Boris cheered him on in support.

“That was fun!” Boris, “What shall we do now?”

Kevin wasn’t sure but he knew he had to do something and quickly. “I shall call Oliver, he will know what to do, he always does.”

Boris didn’t know who this Oliver was but if Kevin believed that he would know what to do then that was good enough for him.

Oliver to the rescue!

A gentle knock on Kevin’s bedroom door startled both of the cats. “Hey, it’s me – Oliver, I can only stay a few minutes, what’s the urgency?” As the door opened Oliver walked into the bedroom and spotted Boris curled up on Kevin’s bed and it didn’t take long to notice that Boris was not in a good way.

“I can explain…..” Kevin started to tell the story and those ‘few minutes’ that Oliver was originally going to stay for, ended up several hours as he learned how his grumpy aggressive mate Kevin that hates everyone, had turned into a good friend in the space of a night and saved an old cat called Boris.

“Well say something – anything.” Kevin pulled a face at Oliver.

Oliver scratched behind his ear which he sometimes did when he couldn’t find the right words. After a painstaking few minutes of silence, Oliver stared at Boris and Kevin. They were right, something needed to be done.

“We can’t have Boris sleeping rough anymore, not a cat of his age. He needs a loving home and he needs to get his wounds treated and to see a vet!” Oliver made notes on his mobile as he spoke to them.

“But where is he going to go?” Kevin pleaded.

Oliver smiled at Boris, “Don’t you worry about that, I know just the person!”

“I told you he could help.” Kevin whispered to Boris.

Boris didn’t reply and he didn’t dare get too excited either in case it didn’t happen because he was more than familiar with things not working out for him.

Oliver was as good as his word because his Human is well connected in the cat world and he knew that if he could get Boris to his home, then his Human Mum would be able to sort him out. Once that had been decided, it was organized that Boris would leave with Oliver straight away.

“Thank you, Kevin.” Boris gave Kevin a gentle head-boop.

“Promise you will let me know how you get on?” Kevin nudged him back.

“I will. Oh, and Kevin?” Boris asked him as he was about to leave.

“Yes Boris?”

“Take it from an old timer, don’t be too nice all the time, a bit of bastardness keeps people on their toes!” Boris winked at him before doing his ‘old man walk’ out of the house to the car.

Just as Oliver was about to go, Kevin called out to him. “Did I do the right thing Oliver?”

Oliver nodded several times, “Yes Kevin, you most certainly did.” But what Oliver didn’t tell Kevin and that was just how proud he was of his feisty friend and he didn’t even have enough words to tell him just how much.

‘Kevin the bastard’ – but not always one
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Four weeks later

Kevin was round Oliver’s house for a sleepover, Oliver had organized it just for him and Kevin to have something to eat and a few cat beers.

The sound of the doorbell made Kevin jump, not having a doorbell at home, these things always startled him.

“Can you get that for me please?” Oliver yelled from the kitchen. He had bought some tasty treats for Kevin to reward him for going three days without biting his humans. Really, he was doing exceptionally well with his anger management course.

Kevin went to the door and took a peak out of the window to see who it was. I mean, it could be a cat napper or something, maybe someone wanting to steal him and use his fur coat as a pair of gloves – it could happen you know.

Standing outside was a distinguished older cat, somewhat stiff but he looked quite nice and presentable with his black shiny coat and beautiful blue collar with a name tag and a bell on it.

“I think it’s one of those religious kitties spreading the good word of the Lord!” Kevin yelled to Oliver.

Oliver peaked from behind the wall looking secretive, “Just let him in, it’s fine!”

Kevin opened the door and stood to the side to let the cat in, “Oliver will be with you shortly, he is just in the kitchen, but I warn you now – I don’t do religion.”

The older cat didn’t say a word but kept fiddling with his name tag and continued to do so until he had caught Kevin’s attention. Glancing down, the name tag caught Kevin’s eye because engraved on it was a name that he had never forgotten since the day that he first heard it.

“Hello my friend, how are you doing?” The black cat asked him.

“Boris!” Kevin gasped.

Oliver stayed in the kitchen and left the boys alone to catch up to piece together Boris’s story about his life.

Boris told Kevin about his new family, how they had taken him to the vets for treatment for his fleas, wounds, bites and injuries, his teeth had all been removed as well and he looked better for it. Kevin learned how Boris had his own bed, toys and even gets to sleep on his humans’ bed. But most of all, Kevin got to see Boris living his best life for the rest of his senior years.

“Are you still naughty Kevin?” Boris asked him.

“You had better believe I am!” Kevin growled, followed by a playful head-boop at Boris, “Just don’t tell anyone that I washed you and buried your crap in the litter tray.”

“That can be our little secret!” Boris gave a toothless smile.

Six months later

Boris lasted another six months with his new family and in those six months, he had more love, care and attention than he’d had in years. He was sent to Rainbow Bridge and his family were by his side, telling him how much they loved him and what a good boy he was.

“But it’s not fair!” Kevin cried to Oliver when he found out, “He only had a few months with his new family.”

“It’s better to have six good months than six bad years. Older cats are just as deserving of a home and whether or not it is for one day or one year, if it’s a good day or year with good people then it’s worthwhile.” Oliver patiently explained to him.

“Ask yourself one thing Kevin, would you do it all again even though it’s upset you?” Oliver asked him.

Kevin thought for a few moments, yes, he would do it again because what he didn’t have in years of friendship with Boris, he certainly had in memories. After all, older cats deserve a loving home as well.

A good home – not just for kittens and something every cat deserves.

The End

*Disclaimer – this story is purely fictitious and no harm or offence intended*

Samantha Rose – (C) Copyright January 2020

Every Cat Comes From Somewhere and Every Cat Deserves a Home

In case you didn’t know, Kevin came from a rescue group called Paws Cat Rescue in Perth, Western Australia.

It wasn’t just a case of paying money and taking Kevin home. Oh no, we were carefully vetted and our identity checked and we even had to prove we had our own house or had permission from a landlord in order to keep a cat, so trust me on this – there were no shortcuts to adopting our ‘Kevin the bastard’.

When we first adopted our little spitfire – Kevin
Photograph by Samantha Rose

His fee covered vaccines, microchip and desexing as well as some food to be getting on with plus initial adoption advice and post adoption support should we require it.

Paws cat rescue don’t just adopt out kittens either, senior cats like ‘Boris’ – the fictitious character in my story are given just the same chance of a loving home. No cat is discriminated and is treated with equal love and respect.

Why am I promoting a small cat rescue group? Well that is because the smaller groups often go by unnoticed and quietly doing their ‘thing’. They are doing their best for rescue cats and senior cats just like the one in my story. Giving cats another chance at life and even if that means for just one day or for several years, they are all given that opportunity and this wonderful act for animal welfare from groups like this, needs to be recognised.

I know one thing for sure, without this particular small cat rescue group, I would not have my darling Kevin today and goodness knows where he might have ended up had he not been in their capable hands.

So if you are looking to adopt a cat, please consider a senior cat and don’t be put off by how long you may or may not have them for. Because a day of love with an old cat is better than years of nothing without.

You can donate (if you wish) to Pawscatrescue https://pawscatrescue16.wixsite.com/pawscatrescue , details are as below:

BSB: 124001 Account Number: 22495190

Kevin’s Christmas

Posted on December 19, 2019 by Samantha Rose

This is a story about Kevin’s Christmas – it contains mild adult content and lots of talking animals. You may not believe that your pet can talk in which case, it might be best to leave now because in my little world – animals have active social lives, can talk and even go to work and drive cars. If you are a believer, then pour yourself a glass of wine (or make a cuppa) grab a chair, put your feet up and enter a world where cats talk, swear, smoke catnip cigars and rule the world.

Introducing the following kitties for this Christmas story

Kevin (domestic longhair)

And a Merry Bloody Christmas to You from Kevin
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Kevin is our semi feral, grumpy cat who has a nasty habit of biting/attacking people depending on how he is feeling.

Don’t get me wrong because despite his behaviour, we do love him very much and there are days where we as his humans just want to bury our faces in that floofy belly and kiss him but that would just be silly because we would probably die, well maybe not die but get our faces shredded. It would be like kitty graffiti – with antibiotics, where he puts his mark on us like some people tag fences and public buildings. Only it would be our face and all the cats in the neighbourhood would know that it was the work of Kevin the bastard.

If Kevin were human, he would be the Christmas ‘Grump’ and be one of those people that would frequently say ‘I bloody well hate Christmas’ and make a huge point of telling everyone that there is no such thing as Santa and no, he absolutely does NOT want a Christmas present from you but then gets annoyed when he doesn’t get one.

Kevin has a pretty impressive set of pantaloons and in case you don’t know, pantaloons are the fluffy area on a cat’s bum which give the impression of wearing pants.

Kevin displays his pantaloons to give you an idea of what they are – in case you didn’t know
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Kevin attends a young offenders program to try and rehabilitate him from biting people. This involves learning new skills and anger management but doesn’t always work and he ends up using our legs as scratch posts.

Brutus (Kelpie/ridgeback mix and the ‘goodest’ boy ever)

Brutus the Good Boy
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Brutus is Kevin’s brother from another mother. He is a large, clumsy dog with a heart of gold and he hates confrontation much preferring to run away from a fight than towards it. Brutus is not the smartest dog on the block but he has lots of friends that love him for who he is and that is a beautiful smoochy dog that still believes in all things good and fluffy teddy bears.

In his spare time Brutus likes to chase butterflies and sing in the local dog choir. He once starred in a doggy boy band called the ‘Breeder Boyz’ but that is another story and if you want to read about that, you will have to buy my book titled ‘Planet Iggy’. But I warn you, that contains stories about talking dogs and is even more childish than this one.

Omar (Maine Coon)

Omar is pretty darned sexy for a cat even if I say so myself
Photograph by Stephy Jayne

Omar is the largest cat out of all of his friends and is so big that he even makes Kevin look small. He is a kind boy that likes to pick flowers for his Mum and he assists the elderly neighbours by digging up their weeds for them in return for the odd chicken neck. If he were human, he would run errands for the elderly and visit nursing homes to sing songs for them on a Sunday.

Omar loves to celebrate things, especially Christmas. Well actually, Omar celebrates everything in his life and enthusiastically gives his thanks when his humans serve his food, empty his litter tray and tell him how gorgeous he is.

Omar takes immense pride in his appearance and makes his humans spend hours grooming out his pantaloons. Some say that there are small song birds hiding out in Omar’s pantaloons, but that could just be gossip.

He is a university educated cat and has studied the art of being a good boy and how to climb the Christmas tree without wrecking it.

Oliver (Cream Burmese)

Oliver – CEO of Raw Meow
Photograph by Emax Pet

Oliver is a darling little cat and is employed as the CEO of his Mum’s raw pet food company – Raw Meow.

He is a well-spoken boy and works from his own office at home. He has a computer and one of those year planners on the wall because he is such a busy working cat with a habit of double booking his time.

Oliver takes the orders for his Mum and keeps everything running smoothly. He answers questions about raw cat food and goes to visit kitty schools to talk about the benefits of ‘Kitty crack’ which is freeze dried chicken that cats have been known to commit crimes in order to obtain.

Oliver is well respected within the kitty community but doesn’t take shit from anyone and if he slams his paw down on the desk and tells you to listen – then listen you must or face a jolly good telling off and a stern look guaranteed to shrivel you up.

Teddy (British Shorthair)

Teddy – don’t be fooled by his innocent face
Photograph by Ieva Kristine

Teddy is a naughty cat and like Kevin, can be feisty. He is the one that will sit quietly for a bit and then launch himself onto whoever is annoying him at the time and then when his Mum catches him, he will deny all knowledge of wrong-doing.

Teddy enjoys sushi and by that I mean stealing fish from the neighbour’s fish ponds and using two twigs as chopsticks to eat it and pretending to speak Japanese which he does just to show off to the neighbours.

In his spare time Teddy likes to teach feral kittens how to use a litter tray and on a Saturday evening, Teddy goes to the gym to lift catnip mice to build up his muscles.

Petunia (Persian)

Petunia – a feminine little girl
Photograph by Julia Soul

Petunia happens to be Kevin’s secret crush. Kevin has a photograph of her in his bedroom but don’t tell anyone I said that as he will kill me.

She is a feminine little cat that enjoys her pop music and likes all things girly. She tried to insist that her microchip be pink but the vet said that was not possible. Petunia got so upset that the vet pretended it was pink just to placate her.

Petunia is studying how to meow in three languages and bird watching.

Kevin of course is becoming quite obsessed with her despite Omar telling him that Petunia is too young for him. Petunia doesn’t help matters because she knows how beautiful she is and thinks that Kev is rather handsome. She has walked past the dining room window a few times pretending to go to the mailbox and seductively digs up the soil with her hind legs when she sees him.

Pippin (Domestic Shorthair)

Pippin the tuxedo cat
Photograph by Jazzy Flick Hill

Pippin lives down the road from Kevin and was initially his nemesis because Kevin resented Pippin coming up to his window and leaving ‘bum marks’ on the glass but after Pippin rocked up one day with a dried sardine in his mouth as a peace offering, they became firm friends.

Pippin is a free spirit, preferring to chase parrots, pretend he is homeless and targets old ladies in order to get more food. He claims that he belongs to everyone and nobody and has been known to do busking while singing the song of his people in the form of yowling and screeching outside his house at midnight in return for kitty crack.

Pippin attends TAFE and is studying furniture shredding and hopes to have his own art gallery one day.

Ned (Domestic Shorthair)

Ned the chunky boy
Photograph by Michelle Anne Bullas Au

Ned is a kind hearted chonk and is pretty much friends with everyone. He can’t even walk down the street without other cats stopping him for a chat or call in for a bowl of milk and a catnip cigar.

Food is important to Ned and he has a habit of hoarding it in case Australia ever went to war because he simply cannot cope with the thought of going hungry. He is so convinced this will happen, that he has built an air-raid shelter out of the pillows on the sofa and stashed some catnip mice and kitty crack in there.

He has learned some impressive survival skills and can start a fire using just his nails and two sticks. Ned aspires to be the next jungle cat and in his spare time he likes to hang out where there are trees and bushes. This is so he can jump out and surprise people and shout ‘Caught ya’ which has become his catch phrase. One time his vet popped a thermometer up his bum and Ned squealed ‘Caught ya!’ in a high pitched voice which was better than swearing I suppose.

Diesel (Domestic Shorthair)

Diesel – the tuxedo cat with pantaloons
Photograph by Renee Lee

Diesel is a handsome boy with a busy life. He is always late for things and when he does show up, he puffs dramatically and arrives in a waft of floof, smelling of sexy cat pheromones and his pantaloons all messed up. Omar tells him off for it saying that any cat with pantaloons, should always have them nice and tidy. Diesel likes the wild look and spends ages fluffing up his fur to make it look as though he has a mane.

In his spare time, Diesel attends the local stage school where he hopes to get into acting, in particular for cat adverts. He already has some of the female cats throwing their collars at him and asking him for his ‘pawtograph’.

Diesel likes to dress up in costume and speak in a fake French accent to give off an air of mystery.

Christmas Eve

It was Christmas Eve and Kevin was sulking because his friends Oliver, Ned, Teddy, Omar, Diesel and Pippin had been talking incessantly about their plans and what they were going to get up to. Their humans were going to buy them gifts, Christmas stockings, treats and probably spoil them with prawns and cold meats. They were bloody going on about it and getting on Kevin’s nerves and Kev was tempted to tell them all to be quiet. Which is why Kevin was at home and not with them joining in the festive banter.

Christmas movies were playing on the TV, with all the usual favourites that people save for Christmas. There were no decorations though as Kevin would destroy them, you should see the fake plant he ruined, oh and the yoga matt as well and whatever he can pull off the walls. That is why we don’t have Christmas decorations.

Kevin was sat in his usual position by the dining room window. He had been waiting for ages for Pippin to call round but he hadn’t turned up, probably sucking up to his humans to get a better gift. Kevin scowled “I bloody hate Christmas! Brutus do you hate Christmas?”

Brutus looked sadly at his brother and knew that nothing could make Kevin change his mind on this one. “No Kevin, I love Christmas and I plan to have a good one catching up with my friends.” He did as well, Brutus knew that he would get more soft toys, a new collar and probably some nice treats so why wouldn’t he like it?

“Well I am off out, you can keep your Christmas cheer and stick it up yer bum!” Kevin shouted at Brutus and then in a flash, he was out of the window to see whose day he could ruin.

Ignoring him, Brutus carried on watching TV, occasionally farting and wagging his tail because he was so happy.

Once outside Kevin went straight to Pippin’s house and sat outside his window to see if he was home. Lifting his paw up to knock on the window, Kevin stopped when he saw Pippin and his human together in the living room. They were watching a Christmas movie together, Pippin was stretched out like a starfish next to his human and she was stroking his belly.

“Bloody idiot letting her do that to him. I would hate to be touched like that! That hand would be in pieces if that was me!” Kevin said out loud. He couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about just on that one day of the year. Why the bloody hell did humans have to get so ridiculously drunk and affectionate – declaring their love for everyone after a few glasses of wine?

Unless of course it was Petunia the cheeky little Persian girl. Kevin had a huge crush on Petunia and he would love to head boop her, except that he didn’t have the courage to tell her how he felt.

Kevin pushed his face up against the window, he knew that he shouldn’t because it would irritate him all the more but if he was honest with himself, it was also because he felt a bit left out of this ‘Christmas cheer’ when all of his friends were enjoying themselves. He didn’t see the point in it and found himself feeling isolated and lonely. Even if it was purely his own doing because of the wall of aggression that he had built up around himself.

There was no point in hanging around, he knew when he wasn’t wanted. Feeling irritated with life in general, Kevin decided to go back home so that he could hump his toys and work off his anger. When he got back to his house, he was so wrapped up in his bad mood that he didn’t see his friends Oliver, Ned, Omar, Pippin and Teddy standing outside his window talking to Brutus.

“You can try but I don’t hold out any hope.” Brutus could be heard saying.

Oliver licked his lips and straightened himself up. “He won’t be able to refuse!”

Shrugging, Brutus nudged the window open so the cats could all jump through it. They hadn’t noticed Kevin hiding behind the palm tree in his garden.

Should he run off now and leave them in his house with Brutus? He could you know, he could hide somewhere until they had gone and leave them to worry about him. It would serve them right for trying to spread Christmas cheer like butter.

Eventually curiosity got the better of him, and after washing his bum for a few minutes, Kevin decided to take himself and his bad mood back home because a tiny bit of him was quite glad that his friends had called round for him.

The window was still open and Kevin fully intended to sneak in unseen. This is somewhat hard when you are as large as Kevin because however you land, it is going to be with a thump.

“There he is – It’s Kevin!” Oliver chirruped to let Ned, Teddy, Pippin and Omar know that he had come home.

“I shall leave you to it, I am going to my kennel and will leave you to try and cheer this Christmas misery paws up!” Brutus wagged his tail and picked up his favourite squeaky hippo toy and went outside to the garden.

The Christmas Grinch

“We have brought you some stuff!” Oliver grinned and without waiting for an answer, he shoved a bag of treats in Kevin’s direction.

It is very hard to be grumpy in the company of a cat like Oliver. He has impeccable manners and is nicely spoken and has the most adorable little face, he also has the skill of being able to get cats to confide in him and cheer them up. Some say he should work for the kitty counselling group because he is that nice.

“Cheer up Kev, we have a night of fun planned for you!” Omar nudged him. He hated the thought of Kevin not enjoying Christmas and would never give up on his ginger friend.

“Is that a little smile I can see before me?” Oliver tilted his head to get a better look at Kevin’s mouth where sure enough, the beginnings of a smile were starting to appear. Kevin stood up on his hind legs and looked behind his friends to see if they were hiding anything, “I don’t suppose Petunia is with you?” He asked hopefully.

Oliver patted Kevin on his back, “Sorry old chap but I don’t think her owners would let her out to an all boys party.”

“Oh well, I don’t need her anyway – this is totally a boys’ party.” Kevin said unconvincingly.

“You my friend may as well join in because we are not going to shut up until you get happy with us!” Ned leaned towards him and gave him a rough head-boop and nearly knocked him over.

“If you don’t laugh I shall piss in your litter tray!” Pippin promised, knowing that it is a huge insult to piss in another cat’s litter tray, almost comparable to sneaking through another cat’s cat-flap to steal its food.

“You wouldn’t?” Omar gasped.

Pippin winked at him, “Might do, depends if he cheers up or not!”

But before they could say anything else, the cats were disturbed by a tuneless voice outside the window trying to sing Christmas songs.

“Silent night, it’s a full moon,

I am a cat with nice pantaloons

I am a good boy and I’d like some fish

Come to my house and please fill up my dish

My name is Diesel the good boy, My name is Diesel the cat”

“Who the hell is that?” Ned winced at the noise and put his paws in his ears to muffle the sound.

Omar shook his head, “That is Diesel – and he sounds drunk!”

“Party time! Now this is gonna be fun!” Teddy did a little dance with his front paws, hopping from paw to paw.

Kevin looked through the window to see Diesel standing there wearing a Christmas elf outfit. “What the bloody hell do ya think you’re doing?” Kev spluttered.

“Hello there Mr Bastard!” Diesel bowed to Kevin, “I have come to spread my Christmas cheer!” Then taking a leap through the open window, Diesel pounced on top of Kevin to wrestle him to the ground nearly splitting his elf costume in the process.

“Who would like a beer?” Ned loudly tapped on a glass to get everyone’s attention.

Diesel looked up and spat out a mouthful of Kevin’s fur, “Sounds good to me!”

Kevin momentarily stopped sparring with Diesel, “Yes please,” and then went back to some energetic bicycling with his hind legs – bicycling is where your cat kicks the crap out of something with its hind legs and is quite cute to look at unless it’s your arm, in which case it hurts.

“Diesel?” Kevin asked him after they had stopped play fighting.

“Yes my good man?” Diesel replied in his best English accent.

Kevin shook his head at Diesel’s outfit with his elf costume straining at the seams and his pantaloons puffing out through the gaps. “What the hell are you wearing?”

“Christmas spirit my friend, Christmas spirit!” Diesel grinned at him, “And don’t I look sexy!”

Only Omar managed to contain himself but as for the others, it was quite a few minutes before they managed to stop laughing.

It’s Party Time!

As the party kicked off, Kevin had suspended his grump and had started to cheer up. But not too much, because he had a reputation to keep up and being too happy would get people talking.

It doesn’t take much to get a cat drunk, not really, just a few cans of cat beer and they are pretty much done. But if you put a whole group of kitty friends together then they always drink far more than they should and that is when they start doing stupid things – a bit like humans.

Several cat beers later and it was all kicking off. Cans littered the floor, the smell of catnip filled the air as the boys took it in turns to smoke it or roll in it and after an hour or so, the cats were ready to take the party to the next level and do some party games.

“Let’s play truth or dare!” Oliver hiccupped, he was drunk. Not that he ever intended to get anything other than tipsy, but Pippin had mixed his drinks together and dared him to drink it. Oliver didn’t want to look silly and finished the entire can in one gulp and was so pissed that he was asking the other cats to pull his paw so that he could fart. Not that he needed permission to fart but there is something hilarious about getting it anyway.

“Oliver, stop it! Remember what happened last time you did this, you soiled yourself.” Omar reminded him sternly.

“OK then, I dare Omar to climb the Christmas tree!” Oliver nodded several times to each cat in the room so that they could see what a splendid idea it was. Such a fine idea, nobody else could think of it, he was sure of that, what a bloody genius!

“Yeah, OK.” Omar agreed, “Except that there is one little problem.”

“What’s that then, are you scared?” Oliver said and let out a huge smelly belch. Placing a paw over his mouth, he giggled “Oops, excuse me!”.

Kevin had forgotten his bad temper and stifling his laughter. Covering his pink nose with his paws, he couldn’t contain himself because Oliver’s manners were usually so perfect that he would even spray air freshener after using his litter tray.

“So what’s the problem then?” Oliver repeated.

Omar’s face was deadpan, he had this skill of keeping a perfectly straight face when he wanted to. Some say he has a poker face and I believe it too.

“There is no Christmas tree Oliver, they can’t have decorations here because Kevin eats them!”

Confused and drunk, Oliver bumped into furniture, swearing blind that he could see a Christmas tree and where the hell was it, and who had moved it because it was there a minute ago.

Whatever mood Kevin had been in earlier, had vanished as he, Omar, Ned, Teddy, Diesel and Pippin laughed at Oliver as he continued to search for the invisible Christmas tree while randomly saying sorry to his Mum for farting letting her down with his bad manners.

Pippin lay on his back drinking his beer from a straw, leaning to his side so he could see Kevin, he shouted “It’s Kevin’s turn for a dare!”

Teddy snatched the packet of catnip cigarettes from the floor and lit one up. He inhaled deeply and blew smoke out in funny shapes through his nostrils, “Kevin, I dare you to go and take a crap in middle of next doors pathway.”

Ned took a swig of his beer and wiped the froth off his whiskers, “I second that!”

“I bet you won’t do it, he won’t do it you know, he is too scared!” Pippin goaded Kevin.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin handed his bottle to Pippin, “Hold my beer!”

Omar raised his eyebrows, “Bloody hell, do you think he will?”

“Don’t know but let’s go and watch through the window to see if he will do it.” Pippin placed Kev’s beer on the table and the group ran to the dining room where Kevin had already got out through the window and was sneaking off to the neighbour’s opposite.

“How on earth can he cat shit on command like that?” Teddy shook his head in disbelief.

The boys watched Kevin creep off to the neighbour’s garden, his fluffy pantaloons resembling a pair of clown’s pants as he waddled down the path. Oliver always said to him that if he had balls under those pantaloons, he would be lethal with the ladies.

“Oh my days, look at him!” Pippin stifled a laugh and covered his mouth with his paw.

Kevin was not used to going to the toilet quite so publicly and he hadn’t been since the night before and was more than ready to go. He was so engrossed in the dare, that he didn’t notice the security light had come on, lighting up the path where Kevin could be seen taking a crap on the driveway.

But the others noticed it and they couldn’t shout to Kevin because it would just draw more attention to him.

A shadow of a lady appeared from behind the blinds and took a peak outside. She couldn’t see Kevin but the security light was still on and it was only a matter of time before she would come out to investigate it. Kevin was still doing his business and could not be hurried. We all know what that’s like, you can’t hurry the act of toileting because the more you try, the more you have to do and end up being stuck on the toilet for ages – forced to check Facebook on your mobile or do some online shopping.

Teddy had jumped onto the dining room table and was noisily knocking bits of paper out of the way. “What are you doing? This is no time to play games!” Ned panicked.

“I am looking for a torch. Ah, there is one!” Teddy picked up the torch and got off the table and ran back to the window.

The hallway light come on and they could see the woman behind the door, any second now she was going to open it and catch Kevin shitting in her garden.

“If we don’t do something soon, he is going to get caught and in to trouble!” Omar fretted, “Someone do something!”

“I could go and help him?” Diesel piped up, but his idea was quickly rubbished because there was no way that he could sneak out unnoticed in his elf costume. Still, the thought was there.

Teddy turned the torch on and shone it directly in Kevin’s direction and kept turning it on and off. “I heard that they did this in the war, it’s some kind of code or something.”

Pippin was impressed, Teddy was like an army cat that knew things that other cats didn’t, he had ‘street smarts’ and had done some outback survival training. No-one else would have thought about using a torch except for Teddy.

It was by some stroke of luck that Kevin looked up and saw the torch flashing from his window. He could make out the silhouettes of Omar, Teddy, Pippin, Ned and Diesel in his elf costume – all of them were waving desperately at him. It didn’t take long for him to realise that something was wrong.

Kevin heard the key turning in the front door and knew someone was coming out. With no time to run back home, he quickly ran behind the grass tree and buried himself in the branches. He felt their sharp edges poke into him and tangle up in his long fur. The security light had gone out at that point but the lady had already opened the door to see what could have triggered the light.

Not daring to move, Kevin stayed hidden by the grass tree until he heard the front door slam shut. Then the sight of the torch flashing again told him that the coast was clear and he could come back to his house.

Never had he run so fast, he ran until he got to the dining room window and in one jump, he was back inside the dining room where the boys were waiting for him.

“That my friend was brilliant!” Pippin coughed because he was laughing so much.

“Do you think she will see it when she wakes up tomorrow?” Kevin panted.

Diesel puffed air out of his cheeks, “My friend, there ain’t no missing that one. It looks like a bloody oak tree, I am surprised you didn’t name it!”

“Oliver, did you see what Kevin has done?” Ned shouted to him.

Oliver walked unsteadily to where the Kevin was and all he managed to say was “I am sure there is a Christmas tree here somewhere” Before he vomited up an entire chicken neck and passed out on the floor.

“Great, who is going to clean that up?” Kevin looked at them for answers.

“Hi boys, can I come in now, it’s a bit cold out here?” Brutus asked from the garden.

“And there’s your answer.” Teddy nodded in Brutus’s direction.

Time To Go Home

All good parties come to an end and this one was no different. Omar had booked a taxi for them all to get home safely so they could wake up in their own homes on Christmas Day rather than on Kevin’s floor wondering where they all went wrong.

Kevin stood at the window and waved as the taxi pulled out with Oliver’s head hanging out of the window, gulping in the fresh air and muttering stuff about missing Christmas trees and how he will never ever drink again.

“Are you feeling any better?” Brutus asked him and handed him a cup of water.

Kevin replied that yes, he was feeling much better, in fact his grumpy mood had completely vanished because he had enjoyed himself so much. He never used to have any friends until Pippin, Ned, Omar, Diesel Teddy and Oliver came along.

And those friends had made a big difference to his life and although he wasn’t happy all of the time, they made him happy most of the time which is better than nothing because a moment of happiness is better than an hour of misery.

Kevin yawned, displaying his healthy pink tongue and white teeth that have caused quite a few scars in their short life and put fear into a couple of vets as well.

“I am going to bed now, I could sleep for a week after this.” Kevin got up to go to his room.

“What do you want for Christmas Kevin?’ Brutus asked him.

Kevin tilted his head, “Money can’t buy what I want so nothing I guess. Merry Christmas Brutus.”

Brutus looked thoughtful and watched Kevin disappear into his bedroom room. He waited a few minutes by his door to make sure that he was asleep, then he trotted back to the living room, nudged open the sliding door and disappeared into the darkness.

Christmas Day

Kevin wasn’t sure what woke him up the next day, it might have been Brutus insisting that he get up immediately because it was Christmas Day. It might have been his mobile phone beeping alerting him to the 23 text messages sent by Oliver during the night asking where the Christmas tree was, or it could have been the lady opposite standing in her garden, shouting and demanding to know why there was a huge turd in her driveway.

Kevin didn’t know which one it was but he suspected it was probably all of them.

Stretching himself, Kevin repeated under his breath “Today I am going to be happy and I shall not bite my humans because today is Christmas Day.”

When Kevin opened his bedroom door, he was greeted with the sight of Brutus clutching his new rubber squeaky pig. “Merry Christmas Kevin, you have to come into the living room to get your gifts. Oh yes; and you have some visitors.” Brutus barked excitedly.

Mustering up as much energy and enthusiasm as he could, Kevin stretched and checked his reflection in the mirror – he looked like a homeless feral cat with his fur all stuck together with catnip and beer from the party the night before. His mouth tasted like the bottom of his litter tray, my goodness whatever possessed him to get into such a state.

Walking slowly into the living room, Kevin was about to tell Brutus off for being too cheerful when he spotted Omar sitting in the chair. “Merry Christmas Mr Bastard!” Omar grinned. He didn’t get up though, in fact he didn’t move an inch – almost as though he was hiding something behind his back.

“What are you doing here Omar? Merry Christmas to you as well!” Kevin yawned, taken aback by the sight of him. He should be with his family, what on earth was he doing here on Christmas Day? “Brutus, you said visitors but there is only Omar – you need to learn to count!”

“I have a little something for you, it might cheer you up a bit Mr Grumpy Loons!” Omar grinned at him.

“I may have enjoyed myself last night but let’s not take advantage of the situation!” Kevin growled, “And what are you hiding behind your back?”

“Merry Christmas Kevin!” A little voice sounded from behind Omar stepped aside and revealed a freshly bathed and groomed Petunia, who was sporting her brand new pink diamond studded collar on her neck.

“I don’t understand, I thought you were not allowed to hang around with us?” Kevin fumbled his words but tried to remain composed so that Petunia couldn’t see how embarrassed he was.

“Let’s just say that your brother Brutus can be very persuasive when he wants to be.” Omar replied and winked at Brutus.

Sensing his embarrassment, Omar sat with Brutus to give Kevin some time alone with Petunia.

Not knowing what to say, Kevin pointed to the dining room. “Would you like to come and look out of my dining room window with me, it’s my favourite window and I get to see all the birds and everything?”

Petunia smiled at him, “I would love to.” She shuffled up to sit closer to Kevin and looked at the parrots in the palm tree outside. “You’re right, it’s a beautiful window to look out from Kevin.” Petunia nodded appreciatively and snuggled her little head next to Kevin’s.

And that was where they remained for some time while discussing Christmas, families, friends and all things nice.

The End

Thanks go to the following:

Thank you to the following people that have kindly provided me with photographs of their cats to use in this story:

Renee Lee, Stephy Jayne, Laura Antonia, Michelle Anne Bullas Au, Jazzy Flick Hill, Julia Soul and Ieva Christine – you guys have been great.

Thank you to the members of of the Facebook group Australian Raw Fed Cats for all your support and advice about my Kevin. https://www.facebook.com/groups/AustralianRawFedCats/

And finally, thank you to Laura Antonia, owner of the Perth raw cat food company – Raw Meow. She loves Kevin even when he is grumpy and gifted him some lovely things for his birthday, including kitty crack and a toy. If you live in Australia and are interested in raw feeding your cat, check out Laura’s Facebook page for Raw Meow.

https://www.facebook.com/rawmeowperth/ and the website page is http://www.rawmeow.com.au

Disclaimer

All characters in this story are purely fictitious and any resemblance to real life cats is purely coincidental. Unless you want to admit to your cat smoking, drinking and living a life of debauchery, in which case everyone will think you are bonkers. I just write it as I go along and use the photos to help me get ideas.

The cats and their photos have been used with the kind permission of their owners. I have credited the photos according to the Facebook names which may or may not be the real names of the owners’.

The story is intended to be harmless and in good fun and no offence is intended.

Kevin’s Kitty Party

Posted on June 29, 2019 by Samantha Rose

Right picture – Kevin at 7 weeks old, Left picture – Kevin at 2 years old
Photography by Samantha Rose

It is Kevin’s second birthday on 10th July and despite the fact he is a feral turd with a liking for playing noughts and crosses on my legs, I have decided to spoil him by making him his own little cake, buy him some toys and video his party for Instagram where he will be joined by his internet cat friends from the Raw Meow group plus maybe some others in Insta. One would think that Kevin would be excited by this but you all know Kevin, he is grumpy floof and is annoyed because he can’t have friends to the house – never mind the fact that he would probably combust with territorial anger if he saw another cat.

This afternoon Kevin was pretty much ignoring me and Brutus and was busy doing his thing in his room. His ‘thing’ by the way could be anything from shredding his cat post, humping Tony Abbott or waiting for tuxedo cat to rock up (he didn’t).

Kevin’s favourite toy – that is not actually his, it belongs to Brutus
Photography by Samantha Rose

“For God’s sake, he is such a selfish cat. We haven’t had a window fight in ages!” Kevin grumbled loud enough for me to hear him from my office.

I ignored him because I was busy, then I heard a crash from the dining room which jolted me out of my creative streak that I was blissfully in. Now I don’t know about you, but I have learned to tell exactly what my pets are doing judging by the sounds they make.

For instance, certain crashes indicate the air freshener can being knocked on to the floor. Other noises could point to Kevin wrecking the blinds (and he has – all of the ones in the dining room). Or it could be the sound of his biscuit bowl knocked over (he has a bag of Ziwi Peak to try that our friend gave to us, so far he isn’t amused but we keep trying).

Either way, there was a noise from the dining room. Jumping up out of my office, I quickly went to check what the damage was and found the remote control for the roller shutters on the floor. Kevin was looking boot-faced and exceptionally pissed off.

“What is the matter with you Kevin?” I went to stroke him and felt a sharp bite to my hand – the little shit.

“I don’t have any friends and tuxedo cat hasn’t been here for a good window fight in ages. There is no point in anything, no-one appreciates or understands me!” Kevin complained.

“That is because you are a miserable bastard, you threaten tuxedo cat every time he comes to the window and when we try to pet you, you bite us!” I shrugged, “Would you like me to continue?”

Kevin looked somewhat dejected as he started to wash his anus with his ginger hind leg held rigid in the air with his toe floofs on display.

I picked up the remote and went back to my office, followed by Kevin still grumbling about ‘his lot’.

About ten mins later he started meowing at me – loudly. “Yes Kevin?” I asked him.

“If I am going to have a cyber party with my friends from the Raw Meow group, will you brush me out so I look nice – including my pantaloons?”

I said yes, that would be no problem.

“Am I really going to have a kitty cake? Tell me about my birthday cake?” Kevin pestered me.

I watched him as he looked on in wide eyed excitement when I described his cake which is going to have some King prawns on it and whatever other raw delights I can think of. I described the number ‘2’ candle that would be on it – yes, we shall attempt to light it as well.

I told him how we were going to buy him his toys and some treats. But it wasn’t the toys and cake that made his day, oh no – it was the promise of his Instagram party and a video being recorded of him with his cyber family.

“Mum?” Kevin asked me.

“Yes Kevin?”

“I hope tuxedo cat turns up to watch from the outside so he can come to my Insta party.” Kev said quietly.

“Anyone would think you were getting soft in your old age Kev!” I laughed.

By the time I came out of my office, I found Kevin curled up on the sofa asleep, no doubt dreaming about kitty cakes, Instagram parties and his friend/enemy – Tuxedo Cat.

Kevin dreaming about his Kitty Party for his birthday
Photography by Samantha Rose

The End

Tuxedo Cat Wars with Kevin

Posted on June 26, 2019 by Samantha Rose

Kevin is not amused with this tuxedo cat on our property
Photography by Samantha Rose

We have a cat that lives a few doors down from us, he is quite nice and is a black and white tuxedo cat. For some reason he likes to come and sit by our window, stare at Kevin and ask him about his day.

Except that Kevin is not the friendliest of cats as you know and he can swear fluently in several different languages.

So you can imagine his fury when he first saw the tuxedo cat come to our door as though he owned the place. He isn’t an aggressive cat, in fact I have seen him outside his house a few times when I drive by and I swear to God that little cat waves at me and gives me a nod of recognition when I go past him.

A few weeks ago we heard the most blood curdling squeal from Kevin that I have ever heard. Jumping up from the sofa, I ran to the dining room and saw Kevin all floofed up, standing at the window while tuxedo cat sat outside and did gestures with his paws about coming in for a bowl of cat food.

“You black and white tuxedo bastard! How dare you come on to my property! I am going to eat you, crap you out and then eat you again and then I shall use your whiskers as dental floss!” Kevin swore at the glass and proceeded to smack the glass with his paws because he was so furious.

Kev got himself that wound up that he ran over to Brutus and swatted him and Brutus didn’t know where to put himself. “What did I do Mum?” Brutus said looking mortally wounded. Reassuring him that he hadn’t done anything, I told Kevin off for his behaviour.

“And you can bugger off as well!” Kev shouted at me and swiped my leg (His nails weren’t out).

“I say, would it be possible to come in for a cuddle and a snooze on your sofa?” Tuxedo cat shouted to Kevin through the window.

“Piss off!” Kevin bristled back and ran to the window again, whacked his head on it and then grumbled, “That bloody hurt! Mum, he hurt me, did you see that?”

“No Kevin, the only one I can see kicking off is you! He has only come to say hello!” Picking up Kevin, I carried him to his bedroom for ‘time out’ where I could hear him shouting and threatening to call his lawyer and the police if we didn’t let him out to defend his home and family. Never mind the fact he was swatting his family with his huge floofy paws, oh no – he had conveniently forgotten that.

Anyway, it all quietened down and tuxedo cat eventually left after doing a phone gesture with is paws while shouting ‘call me sometime’ or something similar.

Tuxedo Battle Part Two

Kevin keeps an eye on the neighbourhood – in particular, that bloody tuxedo cat!
Photography by Samantha Rose

Kevin has always enjoyed a bit of neighbourhood watch and will spend ages at the window or if he hears anything outside, will run up to the window and stand like this for long periods. This has escalated since tuxedo cat came on the scene.

The other week Kevin was pressing his nose against the glass and keeping an eye on things when he spotted tuxedo cat at the dining room window again. He was sitting there looking smart with his white tux, little white markings on his face – if he were human, he would be a teenage boy called Rupert, all suited up for his first Prom.

“Hi Kev, are you coming out to play? Or I can come in your house to share your humans if you like?” Tuxedo pleaded from outside.

“You are SO bloody needy! Why don’t you get your own humans?” Kevin voiced his disdain and started yowling and spitting.

“Oh God, he is at it again! I am out of here!” Brutus jumped off the sofa.

My husband went to tell Kevin to stop it or at least distract him but by the time he got to the window, Kevin was punching the window like a champion boxer and threatening to call his friends in to assist (Kev has no friends, I think he might need some invisible ones and even then he would hate them).

The insults were traded mainly by Kevin and tuxedo just sat quietly until he got pissed off and insulted Kevin’s mother Daisy. You never insult a cat’s mother, especially Kevin’s mother Daisy – she is disabled with only 3 legs and Kev won’t hear a word against her.

Kevin stomped off to his room with his pantaloons all puffed out and tail resembling a bottle brush. By that time Tuxedo had gone and I honestly thought that I wouldn’t see him again after that incident.

That was until the next morning when I drove to work and spotted him at the end of his driveway clutching his kitty newspaper ‘The Daily Tux’, he gave me a curt nod to acknowledge me and I smiled back. Then when I got to the end of my road there was ANOTHER identical cat just like him, also sitting at the end of his drive and he gave me a curt nod as well. It was like some secret club for tuxedo cats and it was pretty creepy the way they were both outside their properties when I went to work.

Thank God only one comes to the house though – or maybe it’s both of them and they take it in turns to wind Kevin up. Who knows? Not me that’s for sure.

No-one flounces off quite like a cat with fluffy pantaloons!
Photography by Samantha Rose

Tuxedo Battle Part Three

It was one night this week and I was watching TV when I heard the sound of Kevin talking – he sounds like the character Mick Taylor from Wolfcreek, imagine him saying ‘What the bloody hell do ya think you’re doing?’

“Have you got a death wish or something? Ya bloody idiot!” Kevin hissed at the window.

Brutus was in the garden so could hear it all and he started to bark at the fence and tell tuxedo to ‘get off his land or he will be sorry!’

Brutus loves Kevin
Photography by Samantha Rose

Kev was quite pleased with this act of solidarity and growled, “My brother is Brutus will sort you out and he is bigger than you!” Unknown to Kevin, Brutus was at the gate mouthing the words ‘Sorry, only joking!’ to tuxedo, being the gentle boy he is and not wanting to make enemies – especially of the feline variety.

Well I was damned if I was going to pick Kevin up while he was so angry. Once Kevin has gone into ‘brush’ and is all floofed up, you would have to be mad to touch him.

And as quickly as it started, it all stopped. Tuxedo’s owners must have called him for his tea or something because he suddenly turned round and then glanced at Kevin, “See you tomorrow?”

“Same time tomorrow!” Kev nodded back at him and gave him a paws-up to confirm it, no further growling or anything.

Later On

Later that night it was all back to normal. Kev was humping Brutus’s beloved doll, Brutus was looking on in disgust and I was wondering if this ‘Tuxedo Battle’ will ever end. Why does this little black and white cat like to sit outside my house?

Kevin having special time with the dogs toy
Photography by Samantha Rose

Last night Kevin sat by the window for two solid hours without moving. “That bloody tuxedo cat hasn’t turned up for our window fight and he promised he would, I mean how rude, he insulted my mother Daisy so now I have to insult his mother, but I can’t if he isn’t here!” Kevin looked boot-faced at the audacity of it all.

Kev waits for the tuxedo cat
Photography by Samantha Rose

Where it will all end is anyones guess but something tells me that the ‘Tuxedo Wars’ will carry on for a while yet and when we are not there, they probably chat to each other and drink tuna beer for cats. That’s what I reckon anyway.

The End

My Cat – Kevin The Bastard

Posted on May 8, 2019 by Samantha Rose

Kevin as you may know, is our ginger cat – the one we adopted a week after Gordon crossed over to Rainbow Bridge because quite simply, we could not be without a cat and our little home was incomplete without one.

For those of you that haven’t read that blog entry of how we said goodbye to Gordon and how Kev came into our lives, the link is here:

https://thepigaloodiaries.com/2017/09/19/the-day-we-walked-with-gordon/

Kevin – now 7.5kgs of floof and attitude
Photograph by Samantha Rose

How has Kevin turned out?

Well he is actually rather magnificent and at the time of writing this, he is 1 year and 9 months old and weighs 7.5kgs. He is a feral bastard – which is why we call him ‘Kevin the bastard’, a title that is more than fitting of his personality.

Kevin attacks my legs, he bites them when he wants attention, he bites them when he is pissed off and he bites them, well just to tell me that he loves me and I now have brown scars all over my legs comparable to a game of noughts and crosses.

Kevin has also turned out to be a bit of a pervert. No, he does not have his testicles as they were removed over a year ago but he still seems to have ‘needs’ and these ‘needs’ involve humping the dogs toys.

He humps the toys while clutching his goldfish fishing wand in his mouth although sometimes he likes to hold the squeaky squirrel but the fish is his favourite ‘sex toy’ which he drags round the house until he finds what he wants to hump. We did try removing all of the dog toys which was not fair on Brutus, but he ended up humping Brutus and of course, Brutus was shocked and disgusted and so am I because this afternoon (8th May 2019), Kevin was rubbing his face on my husbands shoes while trying to hump my foot.

“Mum, can you please get Kevin off my Tony Abbott doll!” Brutus protested once while Kev went at one of the Tony dolls like a champ. “That is disgusting!” Brutus added. I gently reminded him that it wasn’t that long ago that he (Brutus) used to try and hump my arm when he got overexcited while holding a Tony in his mouth.

Tony is Kevin’s favourite toy to ‘love’
Photograph by Samantha Rose

“But that was different!” Brutus blushed. He was right though, Brutus wasn’t trying to get his ‘jollies’ so to speak but Kevin does (we have to wash the toys once a week now).

The squeaking from the toys grew louder as Kev worked his way round them and he even sorted the gingerbread man out. “You are just jealous!” Kev sneered at Brutus. Brutus turned away because he couldn’t think of a suitable reply.

Kevin has sexy time with Brutus’s favourite toy
Photograph by Samantha Rose

This went on for quite a while but actually it is a daily event and we just try and ignore him. Well I say ignore him but I shall admit to taking several videos as Kev now has his own Insta account and I post the videos and photos on there and Kev is getting quite a following. Here is the link if you are interested – http://@Kevinthebastard

You can also catch up with Kevin on his Facebook account – https://www.facebook.com/TheDailyKevin/

Kevin the naughty boy!

“Mum?” Kev asked me the other week.

“Yes Kev?” I replied.

Kev admired his nails and said sweetly, “Do you like your legs?”

Stupid me didn’t even realise what was about to happen, so I pretty much deserved it really, “Yes Kevin, I like my legs, why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Kev grinned and took a swipe adding to the already growing collection of scars that make me look as though I have been hurting myself on a regular basis.

Another time he got turd caught up in his pantaloons – and for those not in the know, pantaloons are the back end of a long haired cat. If you check out their floofy legs, they actually look like baggy pantaloons – have a look for yourself if you don’t believe me.

It was no mean feat to clean those shitty ginger trousers and I had to wrestle 7.5kgs of angry semi feral cat who was insulting me and threatening to eat myself and my family in the night and even when I told him that my family live in the UK, he still threatened to eat them.

Kevin is so difficult to handle that he has been prescribed a sedative from the vet to enable me to bring him to the vets or if I need to trim his nails, so please don’t be fooled by the cuteness of the floof because he really is a bastard and lives up to his name.

Dear Lord, make me a good boy!
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Kev is a highly strung, nervous semi feral cat who gets upset if his routine is even slightly out of sync. If we are late putting him to bed (yes he has his very own bedroom), he starts to knock things off the TV cabinet – mainly the modem but will graduate to whatever else may be on there or the coffee table.

One time we had pest control come to do a termite inspection and we had to shut Kevin away. After the guy had gone and my husband went to let Kevin out, Kevin panicked and scratched the crap out of my husband. He did say sorry afterwards and begged for forgiveness, but that was only because prawns were involved.

My House – My Castle!

Kevin is highly territorial and doesn’t welcome other animals into his house, especially cats and he even gets upset if he can see them outside the house through the dining room window. We had a bit of an incident one Sunday with the tuxedo cat from down the road calling round to see us. He often knocks on our front door and asks to come in for a chat – you know me, I would happily chat to him but Kevin said that hell will freeze over before that happens.

This cat is quite cute and I sometimes see him on my way to work sitting outside his garden doing cat stuff. He waves at me and always says ‘Good morning’. Unlike the horrible tabby tom cat complete with testicles that used to piss up my windows and door and call my old cat Gordon a bastard and threaten to shit on my car.

That all ended quite abruptly when I purchased some citronella crystals from the vet to scatter by my door. The last I saw of that tabby cat was him stomping off down the road with testicles and attitude, saying that I had ruined his life.

Anyway, back to Sunday. I was curled up on the sofa watching a movie. Brutus was on his sofa in the dining room and Kevin was being a nosey bastard at the dining room window. Quite suddenly I heard Kevin make a blood curdling screech and his language was pretty ‘choice’ as well, some of it I can’t even repeat.

“Oi! What the hell do you think you are doing? Sitting by my window like it’s yours!” Kevin screamed so loudly that I jumped up off the sofa to see what was going on. I was greeted at the sight of Kevin in full ‘toilet brush’ where his fur had floofed up so much that I could have used him to clean my toilet.

“Let me get that cheeky bastard, I shall kill him with my own paws!” Kev hissed and spat as he attacked the window and flipped the bird at this other cat.

The tuxedo cat outside did not move an inch. He sat there grinning at Kevin while making gestures with his paws and shouting something about ‘no need to be so hostile’ and ‘could he possibly come in and share a bowl of meat or something?’

This of course ended with Kevin getting so upset that he told the tuxedo cat to piss off, then ran over to poor old Brutus who was on the chair, smacked his bum (Kev didn’t have his nails out at all), then chased Brutus into the living room, swiped my legs (nails still not out thank god) and chased me around the house.

Tuxedo cat shook his head and merely walked off down the garden while doing a telephone gesture at Kevin saying ‘Call me’. Kevin who was in more states than Australia, went to his litter tray to take a piss and angrily kicked his litter everywhere to prove a point.

“Well I don’t know what that was all about but I am the goodest boy ever!” Brutus mumbled, still alarmed at why his bum was swatted with Kevin’s huge paws when he was indeed ‘the goodest boy ever’ and rarely if ever did anything wrong.

“Two words” I said to Brutus, “Tuxedo Cat”.

Brutus sighed and muttered something about never understanding cats and especially never understanding Kevin.

I will admit to that tuxedo cat being a bit odd though, he reminds me of something out of a horror movie where these mysterious cats keep appearing just before something happens. He keeps coming to my door despite Kevin threatening to take him out and shit down his neck and each morning I see him sitting outside his house waving to me in the car. I reckon he has another tuxedo friend or brother because at the end of my road, there is another identical cat who also sits outside his house and stares like he is judging my life choices.

It’s almost as though there is a secret tuxedo society that watch my every move and speak in their own language and it is their sole aim to antagonise Kevin and taunt him to watch him lose his temper. Or perhaps I am being paranoid – who knows, not me that’s for sure and don’t ask Kevin, he still hasn’t recovered from the other night.

So What Makes Kevin So Special?

Kevin is feral, aggressive, hard to handle – impossible for the vet to do anything with unless sedated. I think in the wrong hands, Kevin would end up back in rescue. He only just tolerates children – providing they don’t touch him and completely ignore him. If he escaped, there is no way he would be caught. Which is why we are so vigilant with him and actually put him before any visitors that we may have and we would never have children staying with us because we can’t trust kids with him and we certainly can’t trust Kev with kids.

At the time of writing this blog, Kevin bit my hand and latched on, he didn’t draw blood but it really did hurt. He did this because I had shut him out of my office so I could concentrate on my writing and by the time I got out to see him, he was sitting on the kitchen counter looking boot-faced and furious with his pupils dilated in a ‘I am going to kill you’ kind of way. I had upset his routine, his evenings with me and had left him alone in the living room.

With Kevin, we work with what we have, we read his signals or at least try to. We make the most of his good points because when Kevin does allow you to cuddle him, he will ever so slightly relax in your arms and you get the slightest and faintest purr from him and occasionally he dribbles and when you get that kind of affection with him, it’s like you have won the lotto and not just his love for that moment.

He follows me everywhere, to the bath and even to the toilet and it breaks his ginger heart if he can’t find me which makes me feel awful when I have to shut him out of my office because he won’t let me work.

Kevin likes to watch me have a bath or shower
Photograph by Samantha Rose

We can never be complacent with him because he can be quite affectionate one day and almost like a normal cat but if something upsets him then he can be spooked and aggressive the next. One funny little indicator of him being upset is that his little nose puffs up and turns what I call ‘electric pink’, we can always tell when he is upset just by looking at his facial expression and in particular, his nose.

So why did we pick Kevin?

When we first adopted Kevin and brought him home, I recall him smacking his legs to the floor, hissing at me and taking a swipe at my hands. He was 7 weeks old when he did that and we knew that he was not going to be an ordinary easy to handle kitten.

He was ginger, he was feisty, he had no fear and he marched up to my husband like a short man with a purpose. I knew he would fit in with us and I knew that he needed to hold his own because at that time, he would be living with two big dogs.

Not all cats are loving, gentle and easy to own. Some of them are nervous, aggressive and need to be accepted as that way which is exactly what we have done. And when you take on a cat like that, you commit to him/her no matter what but most of all, you need patience and lots of it.

Kevin is a young adult cat now, he humps toys, he steals things, he bites, he gives the occasional magical head boop which is often followed by a bite on the nose and he knows exactly what he likes and doesn’t like in his life and relies on us to look after him and protect him.

To have that kind of understanding and mutual communication with him, means we need a certain level of trust between us and him. I think we have that now but he is still a work in progress and we can never drop our standards in care for him and let our guard down.

Kevin is a character, we have never owned a cat like him – ever. He makes us laugh, he makes me cry – especially when he bites my legs and I truly mean it when I say that you have to meet him to believe just what a character he actually is.

Why Kevin when we could have had a ‘normal’ cat? Well why not? He belongs with us, we are the ones that know him best and love him the most.

He is a bastard, but he is our bastard and we think he is pretty darned awesome.

Kevin – the bastard in training
Photograph by Samantha Rose

Dedicated to all carers of feisty feral cats in the world – wherever they may be