Love, bubs and life on our little farm

I always wanted a kitten but my Dad hated cats and always said no. So when I moved out of home at 17 for uni, my Mum took me to the RSPCA and bought me a cat for my early 18th birthday present. It made her happy to know that whilst she was leaving her little girl alone 1000kms from home, that I would have something to love and care for.

I walked the cages and looked at all the sweet tiny kittens but I got distracted by a 6 month old cat that climbed the wire to my eye height to get my attention and miaowed plaintively. I asked to hold him and he snuggled up to my chest and delicately picked up my crystal pendant in his mouth. He was soft grey and had strength in his eyes, I was hooked. So rather than choosing my own cat, I think I got chosen instead! I didnt leave with the intended tiny ball of fluff but rather a nearly full grown cat, such was his power. I called him Ferdinand after the gentle bull in the cartoons, since he was big but sweet, he became "Ferdie" immediately.

And while I spent long lonely afternoons and nights studying through my early years of uni, he purred from my lap or the side of my desk in my in-tray. He snuggled with me through the freezing cold Canberra nights and later he glared evilly at Jase, unimpressed with having to share me.

He made my life difficult at times - he wee'ed on my poor housemate in her bed on one of her first nights in the house and numerous times afterwards (sorry Dana!) Before they made their peace and became firm snuggle buds on the lounge watching day time tv whilst hardworking Science students were slogging away in the laboratory (aah to be a Law student with like 16 contact hours a week). He made enemies with my Dad including using a timber edge to one of their doorways as a scratching post to the point it was just splinters whilst they were babysitting him for me whilst I was overseas. He has also always been a vomiter - I have long lost count of the number of vomits I have cleaned or stepped in, in the middle of the night.

He made the transition from an indoor-outdoor cat to a strictly indoor cat when we moved to Qld and did it with good grace. I am happy that all our lovely native animals are safe and he is happy to not have to stray far from his food bowl and warm spot on any bed/lounge/carpet that he chooses.

He is still narky and full of spirit and though after 11 years has accepted Jase into the fold, is still a one owner cat. I am the only one that can hold him down or trim his claws without fireworks. He still snuggles on my side of the bed and jumps up for cuddles on my lap every evening.

He is about to turn 13 and still has his gorgeous silky grey coat and still gallops through the house darting at shadows, but he is showing his age and has lost a lot  of weight and is drinking a lot of water. My heart aches at this indication of his mortality.

So I took him to the vet today for an array of blood tests to get to the bottom of potential thyroid issues or kidney problems. Of course the child in me is convinced I can "fix" him and that he will celebrate his 21st birthday like my bosses cat did.

Sometimes all you have is positive thought really. But I just don't know what life will be like without him.