I am not a cat lover. never have been and never will be
but sometimes things touch your life, the memories are there and will linger.
Mrs EO IS a cat lover. She had cats when we met, and when one died, she decided to get another.
She talked excitedly about the new pet sanctuary that had opened locally and she trawled the web.
Then she found the perfect candidate. A male ginger kitten.
I drove her over to pick it up and she started to talk about names. 'Go on - you have a wild imagination, think of an outrageous name for a cat' .ok. He has to protect the females, he has to be hard. he needs a name with cachet, he needs a posh name as well. Brewster-Roustabout. The only cat in the North West with a double barreled name.
When we got there , he had gone. Some other cat lover had got there first, despite the missus 'booking him'. 'We have this ginger female. but she's a bit, er.. fierce'
They were dying to get rid of this ginger female. They were clearly terrified of her. She was a kitten, but blooming heck, she was half mountain lion
So thats how Brewster came into our life.
We had just got back from our first trip through the outback. The missus put a picture of the opera house and Sydney harbour bridge, taken from Mrs McQuaries chair, framed through some trees, on her PC as the background.
One day when she was at work, I photo shopped the kittens head into the photo. A few days later, the missus says to me - 'I keep seeing that cat everywhere, Im going mad'. She nearly bursted me when I told her. Subliminal Brewster Roustabout.
Pretty soon, it was time for her jabs. But there was a problem. The vets refused to treat her. The missus went down and Bresters file had a big red 'X' on the front. Handle with care - better still, dont handle at all. The assistants showed the missus the scratch and bite marks, they were all scared of this fearsome moggie.
As she got older, Brewster got very big. A few pounds of muscle, spitting sharp fury. Then she got medical problems. Her insides fell out of her bum, like a tennis ball leaving dabs of blood everywhere she sat. The cat surgeon stuffed it all back up and put a few stitches in. Next day she was back chasing dogs down the street.
Yesterday, she was in for a check up and the vet rang. It was inevitable. heart failure
RIP Brewster
but sometimes things touch your life, the memories are there and will linger.
Mrs EO IS a cat lover. She had cats when we met, and when one died, she decided to get another.
She talked excitedly about the new pet sanctuary that had opened locally and she trawled the web.
Then she found the perfect candidate. A male ginger kitten.
I drove her over to pick it up and she started to talk about names. 'Go on - you have a wild imagination, think of an outrageous name for a cat' .ok. He has to protect the females, he has to be hard. he needs a name with cachet, he needs a posh name as well. Brewster-Roustabout. The only cat in the North West with a double barreled name.
When we got there , he had gone. Some other cat lover had got there first, despite the missus 'booking him'. 'We have this ginger female. but she's a bit, er.. fierce'
They were dying to get rid of this ginger female. They were clearly terrified of her. She was a kitten, but blooming heck, she was half mountain lion
So thats how Brewster came into our life.
We had just got back from our first trip through the outback. The missus put a picture of the opera house and Sydney harbour bridge, taken from Mrs McQuaries chair, framed through some trees, on her PC as the background.
One day when she was at work, I photo shopped the kittens head into the photo. A few days later, the missus says to me - 'I keep seeing that cat everywhere, Im going mad'. She nearly bursted me when I told her. Subliminal Brewster Roustabout.
Pretty soon, it was time for her jabs. But there was a problem. The vets refused to treat her. The missus went down and Bresters file had a big red 'X' on the front. Handle with care - better still, dont handle at all. The assistants showed the missus the scratch and bite marks, they were all scared of this fearsome moggie.
As she got older, Brewster got very big. A few pounds of muscle, spitting sharp fury. Then she got medical problems. Her insides fell out of her bum, like a tennis ball leaving dabs of blood everywhere she sat. The cat surgeon stuffed it all back up and put a few stitches in. Next day she was back chasing dogs down the street.
Yesterday, she was in for a check up and the vet rang. It was inevitable. heart failure
RIP Brewster
Comment