Category Archives: Animals

Swarm

by . Posted on
01 Dec

I was slashing on a hot spring day on the ‘other side’  and swung past the bees as I often do to clear the long grass around their hive entrances.  Never before have I been stung but yesterday I felt them land on me and I swiped them away.  One protested with a dying deed into the crown of my head and it really hurt!  As I swung past again on my next round they landed on me again but this time I was smart enough to do nothing, still smarting from the last bee’s dying wish.

Today I almost ran into a swarm building on a long low branch of a big she oak along the river flat by the teepees.  Missed it by an inch or so thank goodness!  No wonder they were all so cranky and aggressive yesterday.

I rang Ged who is the bee expert (he loves those bees!) and he got very excited and said he would capture the swarm and put it in the last remaining empty box when he got home from Sydney.  Sure enough when the sun was warm we all drove over to watch the bee whisperer at work.  The swarm had completely changed shape in the intervening 12 hours and was now hanging like a flag down from the bough.  Ged put on his white jacket with hood and veil and tucked his jeans into his pants (they do like to climb up trouser legs) and gave the bough one good shake into the box and most of the swarm had a new home.  A few more shakes and some gentle sweeping with the bee broom and we had captured our first swarm.  It was amazing . . . my husband the apiarist and more lovely runny honey for Avalon.  Yay!

Scarlett, Clover and Peter Pan arrive

by . Posted on
26 Nov

Those alpacas were holding out for something, we didn’t know what!  But on the Sunday that my parents and Ged’s parents were here for lunch (6.11.11) in the afternoon I had a little whisper of intuition an took the car down the river flat to see what I could see.

There was Tara with a live baby hanging out of her.  It was the weirdest sight – all neck and spindly forelegs and two wall eyes.  She was humming piteously while Tara hummed back at her so they were obviously talking their way through the business of birth.  Tara was either resting before the next wave of pushing or stuck because she wasn’t doing anything.  I raced back to tell the others and then back to check on our big girl.  After a few minutes it seemed that the baby must be stuck as its colour was fading somewhat.  Time for midwife Sophie to pull and so I did.  I think the chest area was stuck because it was hard work and only once I started pulling did Tara start pushing again.  It wasn’t long before we had a big baby girl on the ground.  We called her Scarlett because she came out of Tara and she had a big birth splash of blood on her til it rained that night.

It was wonderful to sit on the grass on what was a very hot day and watch those first tentative moments of life.  It is a miracle every time.  And one this time that I shared with my Mother who wasn’t here when I birthed her little grandson miracle here at Avalon.

The Alpacas are very curious and welcoming of each newcomer to the herd and lick and look after the baby while the Mama eats and rests and recovers her strength.  Each ‘packer’ comes over to say hi and see what has happened and make contact with the new bub while it recovers from the shock of birth and slowly finds its feet (living on a farm you soon learn where all these old expressions we take for granted come from!)

Scarlett is not beautiful like her namesake but I am sure she will grow into her skin.  She is a big girl like her Mama and pure white.  I don’t know whether she is blind or not or just wall eyed.

When we came home from Playgroup on Wednesday 9.11.11 we had another one!  Blossom who is old and wise and has seen and done it all before just quietly produced the most beautiful of little girls while we were gone.  Clover is a stunner and friendly and sweet and curious and charming.  Warm honey colour all over and a delight in every way (we are all very in love with her!)

On Saturday 12.11.11 we were going in to Port Macquarie to stay with Mummy and Daddy at The Observatory for the night.  It was a blisteringly hot day and the usual mad panic rush trying to get everything done and organised before we could leave the farm in the capable hands of the Wwoofers.  I was just going to go for a very quick trot around ‘the other side’ when I saw all the alpacas nosing something on the ground on the hill above the office.  Sure enough, Wendy had FINALLY (a year to the day after insemination) given birth to a sweet little boy who was very grubby from rolling in the dust bowl under the tree but it was a great feeling to leave knowing we had three little babies safely landed on the ground and suckling . . . at last!

We do love our alpacas and I can see that this herd will just grow and grow . . . particularly since Orlando is determined to making it so by clambering onto each of these recently relieved of their baby ladies and singing them sweet songs of love . . .

More Midwifery

by . Posted on
05 Nov

Our Alpacas are due and so we have been keeping a close eye on them.  The other day I came home on the tractor at lunch time and noticed Sapphire on the hill above the road and I could see that she was pushing so I raced in to tell Ged and we drove up to have a look.

Immediately I could see that the cria was dead.  Nose poking out and nothing else and so I tried to wriggle my hands in but I couldn’t get any purchase so I made Ged go in.  I don’t know how he got his hands in there let alone made sense of what was there.  It was all so tight and cramped.  He managed to pull while Sapphire was pushing to get the whole head out and some of the neck but then he could make no more progress.

So I had to try with my smaller hands.  It was so hard to feel what was what but definitely something was stuck.  In James Herriot they say to push it all back in and start again so I tried that.  No luck.  It was stuck fast.

I had to try small manipulations to try and make some sort of difference and then pull.  Finally the cria came out.  Ged was not convinced but I could see that it was long dead.  Not in utero, but just from being stuck.  I don’t know how long she had been pushing for.  She is a maiden and this was her first.  I don’t really think she knew what was happening, or what she was losing.  She just knew that she needed help.

Ged tried swinging the cria around but I knew it was pointless.  Then he raced down to the house to get Emergency Essence and Penicillin and to check on our sleeping boy.  Thank God Ben was asleep – I don’t want him to have to witness all these still births. Why is it that we have to help birth dead babies before we can have live ones?  You can imagine how neurotic we are about all the other expectant alpacas now . . . they get checked almost on the hour!

I stayed with Sapphire and reikied her and talked to her and waited for the placenta.  I needed that placenta before I could think of leaving her.  She took her time but finally a long almost skin like, grainy stocking came part way out so I reikied and waited some more.  In the end I very gently and slowly pulled and the rest came away.  It looked intact but I was worried she might have prolapsed with all that pushing.

We left the baby with her for the rest of the day so she could get her head around what had happened.  She didn’t leave him.  At the end of the day I took him away and told her what I was doing and found a resting place for him (beautiful bright white boy baby).  I told her to go back to the herd.  But she refused to leave her birthing spot.

By the morning she was back in the herd and I was able to catch her at feeding time to inject her with penicillin.  I also checked out her nether regions and saw maggots in her vulva so a hasty call to Ged and then to Pamela for help for the morrow because clearly I needed to clean those out.

Pamela came and somehow managed to get her 2WD over our hill (some people just won’t listen and stay at the gate to be collected!) and we herded the alpacas with some difficulty into the house paddock and then up into a corner where we built a makeshift fence to keep them in.  Pamela held the head end while I got into the other with a jar of hydrogen peroxide, a worming syringe and my fingers.  Ugh!  I hate maggots at the best of times and this was definitely not the best of times.

I had to find each one and get it out.  It looked like she had a tear from all the pushing (I know about that!) and the baby maggots were in there so I had to flush and pick them out.  Then I found one huge maggot worming its way inside her vagina (OMG!) and then just kept picking them out until I could see no more.  I don’t know that H202 was a good idea in that delicate area but I probably overreacted at my horror of maggots.  I am squirming just thinking about it.

Dr Google has just informed me that maggots are essential for healing and only consume necrotic or dead or infected tissue and leave in their wake fresh, clean tissue so maybe I should have just let them be and let Mother Nature do her own sweet healing.  Clearly it is only my antipathy to maggots which forced my own intervention, and my abrasice techniques may well have made Sapphire worse.  I don’t know that she will ever conceive again.  She has had Penicillin for almost a week and now won’t let me near her with the needle (so surely she is feeling better?) Time will heal and tell.

Here’s hoping for live alpaca babies soon.

Two Dead Lambs

by . Posted on
02 Oct

We have been waiting and waiting and waiting for our big ewe to birth.  Checking her udder every day and saying ‘surely it can’t be much longer’.  Every day as Boo and I drive past I have said ‘What is she waiting for?’ and 2 year old Ben has replied ‘Christmas’.  I hope not . . .

This morning when I went for my run at about 6 she was standing on her own obviously labouring.  I went back to the house and googled sheep birthing schedules and positions.  After my experience with Daisy I determined not to get in there too early so I decided to go for my run and check on her when I got back.

She was still straining when I got back so I consulted google again.  I should have got in there a lot earlier (hindsight is such a wonderful thing!)  Ged went up to the office (she had returned to her favourite spot under the office) and said there was a nose poking out so we grabbed the camera and Pickle and walked up to the office all excited, expecting to see a lamb or two at last.

But when we got there it was still just a nose and it was definitely time to go in.  So we hung up the camera and I put my hand in.  Bush midwifery – no antiseptic, scrubbing or gloves!  The head was stuck and the lamb was definitely dead but I couldn’t get any purchase and couldn’t get my other hand in.  Ged took over and I do not know how he got both of his big hands in there.  After some manoeuvring he pulled out one huge dead lamb.  My poor child witnesses too much death on the farm.  One can only hope that what he learns  is that death is a constant part of the incredible cycle of life.  Natural, inevitable, not to be afraid of . . .

I sent Ged back to the house for the Emergency Essence, Bug Buster, Penicillin, hot water etc.  The lamb smelled pretty bad and had obviously been dead for a while.  She knew she was birthing death.  When he got back Ged wanted to go back in in case there was another lamb.  I said ‘surely she would still be straining’ and was convinced that the size of the first lamb precluded another.  But when I felt along the flank I agreed that there was probably another and this time he soaped up before beginning his grim task.  The squeamish should turn away now . . . I am sorry to say that the lamb came apart in the process (long dead).  We shielded Ben from the gruesomeness.  He kept saying ‘I don’t want a dead lamb’ . . . neither did we.

The worry now was the poor ewe.  The uterus was obviously infected and she was exhausted.  I administered Emergency Essence orally and over her head, Bug Buster orally and a penicillin injection.  We cleaned up the vagina but it didn’t look good.  She was so weak and tired.  I gave her water too and we got her some food.  She had a huge drink but she wasn’t interested in food.  Ged didn’t think she would make it and certainly it looked very unlikely.

We walked home and I left a message for the vet to call us and rang the sheep breeder for any tips or advice.  He had nothing to offer us but luckily the vet was more helpful.  He told us to go to the Dairy and borrow syntocin to encourage uterine contractions to expel any retained placenta or other debris.  And also to borrow Ketol for energy and prevent pregnancy toxaemia.  And keep up the massive doses of penicillin.

We did as we were told and she made a truly miraculous recovery although she was pretty depressed for the first week.  We knew how good she was feeling by how difficult she was to catch!  Ged’s rugby tackles improved significantly in a week but he sustained some decent bruises in the process!  She’s a big girl!

We were all pretty depressed that our first foray into sheep breeding had delivered such sorrow although we have to be grateful for opportunities to improve our livestock knowledge and midwifery skills . . .

Two weeks later we awoke one morning to two live lambs huddled by their proud Mama.  They are now frolicking in the fields as one would expect for a lush spring at Avalon.

As Sticky taught me long ago and as farmers have been saying since time began ‘Where you’ve got livestock, you’ll have dead stock.’  Such is the nature of life.  Witnessing the bright brilliance of birth and the sweet sorrowful surrender into death is the privilege and humility of the farmer’s life.

Duck Days

by . Posted on
26 Jan

We have three new little ducklings.  Ged is flat out like a lizard drinking at the moment, installing solar grid connect systems in nearby Laurieton and he saw a sign for ducklings at a local feed store.  After finding our last lot so difficult to get along with at first (crazy canards!) they have turned into lovely members of the family and it is a delight to look out of the windows and see them sitting on a log or gliding gracefully on the river, or flying up to the house for corn and company.  They like to have breakfast (before Ged leaves), lunch (when Ben and I go walkabout) and supper at 6pm on the dot.  We can pretty much set our watches by them – but at this rate they will become too fat to waddle so I am cutting them back to one meal a day (the buddha principle).  Anyway, we only wanted two more (we try to work to the Noah ideal) but there were three left so Ged had to bring them all home.  They are so cute.  Ged has made a pen for them in the shade under the myrtles and a lovely bed in a big wicker basket full of straw and they are very happy with their new home.  They have taken to Avalon like ducks to water, and wander round the garden, going twenty paces or so and then sitting down for a rest!  The big ducks are charmed by them too and have adopted them as their own young.  They lead them around the garden and then fly from the bank down to the river, leaving the littlies quite bewildered – what happened there?

Arthur, King of Avalon

by . Posted on
08 Sep

Well that Mad Cow FINALLY had her baby!  Her udders were so swollen she could barely walk so Ged had a big chat to her when he fed her on Saturday night and said ‘that’s enough, Paddy, you’ve got to have that baby now.’  And when he woke up yesterday morning she was standing apart from the rest and looking a little strained so he went out to give her a hand.  Apparently the nose and hooves were out but Paddy was heaving so he got his hands in there and eased the head, neck and shoulders out.  The rest came out with just one push.  (Good that he is getting lots of practise!)  And we have a little bull for the farm.  Arthur, King of Avalon.  He’s VERY cute and cuddly with the longest, spikiest lashes you have ever seen.

So we wasted quite a lot of time oohing and aahing over him yesterday and making sure that he was on the udder and sucking properly – Ged had to help him get on the teat and work it all out.
Last week was pretty quiet – we had grey skies, wind and rain for Wednesday and Thursday and I took to my bed with a mean old cold.  I can’t work out whether I am exhausted and it’s finally caught up with me and now I am the incredible sleeping giant, or whether I am just trying to bank some sleep for the future . . . probably a bit of both!  It seems strange that after months of not sleeping properly, now that the head is engaged and all the books say I should be weeing more frequently and more uncomfortable at night etc, I am sleeping like a log!  Typical, contrary me!
Friday we had torrential rain and we both had plans to be in Port Macquarie.  Even though the rivers and creeks were rising we made the call to get in and get out as quickly as possible.  Ged was selling his car, so that couldn’t be put off, and I had to pick up the sander etc but the conditions were terrible so we really were running around!  We finally left Port Macquarie just after 4 and the closer we got to home, the less likely it seemed we would get in.  Every creek and causeway was flooded and we were in Ged’s new van which hasn’t had the suspension raised yet so we weren’t taking any chances . . . Sure enough, we got to Tom’s Creek and didn’t like the look of it.  Ged waded across to gauge the depth and flow and remove a lot of branches from the bridge (he was securely tied on to the car to do this – don’t try this at home!) and it was a foot deep and whereas that would have been fine in the Pajero or the Hilux we had just sold, no good for the Delica.  We need to toughen it up first!
So we decided to walk home and come back for the car in the morning (5kms).  We put on whatever waterproofs we had (Mel, you will be pleased to hear that the only hat Ged had in the car was his UK flat cap and since we have now discovered that it suits him, it has become a firm favourite, getting lots of wear this weekend!) and then were lucky enough to see a hitherto unmet neighbour on her way home and she drove us all the way to the Flying Fox.  Thank God, I was not looking forward to getting my feet wet and cold and then the long march home, especially when I was only just recovering from a cold.  The lovely Chris Latimore came and picked Ged up on Saturday morning and took him back to the car, so we are well served with kind and compassionate neighbours out here in the country!
Ged was sick on Saturday with some sort of horrible tummy bug so I dosed him all day with homeopathics and reiki, knowing he just needed a rest – he has been working really hard both during the week and at the weekends, so his body finally forced him to take it easy.  Thankfully he was better on Sunday though – lots to do!!!  He sanded back the floor in the baby’s room which is now looking and feeling lovely and I have got two coats of Tung Oil down so far.  In a couple of days we will have it all ready for the little man and then he can move in!

Missing Mischa

by . Posted on
11 Aug

We are very sad here at Avalon today.

We have been away.  We left on Thursday just after lunch having filled up all Mischa’s bowls with mountains of her favourite dried food and left a light on for the stay-at-home child and then Ged, Phee and myself drove away, leaving her leaping around the garden and stalking the ducks.  I dropped Ged in Sydney at the motel near the airport at around 7ish and got down to the Grippers in Kangaroo Valley about 9.30.  Ged flew to Perth on Friday morning for his Reiki course with my old teacher, and employer, Barbara McGregor (sounds like she hasn’t changed in the intervening years!) while I caught up with some much loved and much missed Valley friends over coffee, tea and a lovely dinner at Cafe Bella as well as having lots of snuggles in bed with the gripper children in the mornings.  Angus made me tea and then we all snuggled up to feel the baby move and listen to him swimming in his watery environment.  Good times.
I left the Valley at 10.30 yesterday morning and drove straight up to the airport to pick up my husband with the newly acquired Reiki hands (Benjamin is very happy!) and then I had a meeting at Girraween with CRT to get this year’s orders for Think Fly and Feed Bowls (luvverly jubbly!) and we went to check out pre-fab Cedar sheds and guest accommodation before heading home via Steve and Cherie’s so they could also check out the bump and make plans for a visit after it has landed.  Then it was the long road home in the dark.
We got home about 11.30 and were surprised to see no Miaowing Mischa leaping off the verandah and celebrating our return.  But then she loves curling up on top of the mattress or sofa in the shed surveying the mice population so we figured she was there.  We called and called but no sign and her bowls looked untouched, the house tidy and no little muddy paw prints leaving a trail to where she was hiding or where she had been.  I climbed in the bath to elevate my swollen legs and then Ged came in in tears.  ‘She’s dead’.  He found the little angel long gone in a crawling position near the shed she loved to lord it in so much.  She must have left us that first night but we have no clues as to what or why.  She was in fine feline fettle when we left, full of bounce and curiousity.  The only  odd thing was that Pheonix had been trying to shag her for three days so I wonder if there was something going on with her that we didn’t know about.  But she was eating and drinking and acting totally normally.  And for her to have gone so quickly surely it can only have been a snake bite or poison?  It’s just a complete mystery.
She was only with us for such a short time.  She was so lovely and full of character and mischief and Phee loved her as did all the animals and she was such an integral part of our life here.  Raiding the pantry to get her claws into her bag of adored cat biscuits (even though her bowl was full!), stretched out, belly up, on the sofa next to the fire; making herself at home on each and every chair and sofa and claiming them all as her own; climbing up on the rim of the bath to play with the bubbles and then drink the water; treating Phee like her Mummy, suckling and kneading his chest for her morning cuddles; climbing under the covers between Ged and I to stay warm on the coldest of nights; clawing my furniture til we all yelled out ‘MISCHA!’; curling up on the baby belly for a cuddle; supervising activities in the shed from the top of a stored on its end mattress; playing with the feathers around Tinkerbell’s feet; chasing macadamia nuts around the wooden floor; sitting watching ‘The West Wing’ with us with as much avid attention as we give it; generally getting the best of Phee in their mock fights;  and always, always, curling up on her beloved Daddy who rescued her from a life of poverty and neglect in Comboyne and brought her home to where she revelled in the warmth and comfort and always knew that she had died and gone to heaven when she came here.  Well, now she has.  And I only hope she is as loved and looked after there as she was here.  We miss her very much.  She was here for so little time, but she brought us so much joy and laughter.  And she was definitely ‘Daddy’s little Princess’ so say a prayer for him because he is so sad.  Rest In Peace, little Mischa, we loved you so very much.

Real Rural Aussie Expats

by . Posted on
05 May

I went to an initial Pilates session to see if I liked it.  Mainly the woman just talked to me about being pregnant, but then we did eventually get down and do some floor work.  I didn’t really understand what I was  doing or why, and it didn’t feel like much at the time, but I sure felt the pain in the morning!  Still, she didn’t give me a programme to do, or a sense of what I was trying to achieve and I definitely didn’t feel like I’d done any sort of workout (you know me, I come from the ‘no pain, no gain’ Jane Fonda style of exercise) . . . think I’ll stick to yoga, thank you very much, so have been harassing poor Rosie for a pregnancy regime.

On Friday I made the long drive up to Ballina on the Far North Coast to spend the weekend with a client, finally meeting her and her husband, attending, assessing and addressing a two day course of hers to  forge a plan of action for the future.  7 hours door to door was a bore but thank God for my little Tom Tom sat nav which warned me about all the speed cameras, told me how far away I was so we could all plan accordingly, and generally got me there safe and sound and in one piece.  Angela Davison (www.thehorseherbalist.com) lives on a 100 acre bush block in true ageing hippy style (despite the fact that she is a down-to-earth pragmatist of the northern England variety!).  She lives in a hexagonal home made of mud brick and 200 year old timbers from the old whaling station at Byron Bay.  The loo is an outdoor long drop, and rainwater rationing is very strict.  Four huge dogs in the house give off that distinctive odour, but there are some gorgeous antiques and at least I was allowed to just wee on the lawn for my hourly nocturnal antics.
It was FREEZING!!  These are people who don’t believe in closing doors and like to live an outside/inside life.  But I was amazed to find that their solar system supported electric blankets (just wait til I tell my husband!) and so as well as loading my bed with every blanket in the house, I had the hitherto unheard of comfort of getting into a toasty warm bed at night – lovely!  Actually, I have been sleeping really badly recently – what with all the visits to the loo and the electric dreams, so on the Saturday night Angela dosed me up with some of her proprietary ‘Settle Petal’ and at last I started to relax.  On Sunday night I slept properly for the first time since we came back from honeymoon, and in the morning my belly had popped out!!  Bizarre!  I went to bed looking like me, and woke up pregnant!
The course was interesting but poor Angela had the full critique on Saturday night, and was chagrined when her husband (who had been filming it) agreed with all my comments (and up til now he has resented my control over her business life!).  Never mind, she’s tough, and while I was snoring my way through the night she was thinking it all through!  Sunday was much better and on Monday we had the day in the office to organise all her email marketing, computer filing, and assess product packaging etc.  On Tuesday morning we wrapped up the outstandings and I left for a speedy visit to Byron Bay to check out a teepee manufacturer and the very lovely www.natureschild.com.au where they have all the organic nappies and essential paraphernalia little miss is apparently going to need when she touches down on planet earth.
Then home, late and weary to a newly sanded and varnished sitting room,  kitchen and bathroom floors and both dog and husband ecstatic to see me.  How nice to come home to a warm house, a warm heart and a warm welcome . . . .
Angela and students on the Equine First Aid course . . .

New Feline Family Member

by . Posted on
14 Apr

Just when things were getting back to normal, Ged went up the road to look at some wiring and came back with a new member of the Love family!

She is young, calm, easy going and cuddly and to ease her into Phoenix’s existence, we are only having her during the day at the office so we can gauge his reactions and tolerance levels.  He hasn’t been either excited by her or antagonistic but since his stress levels are still pretty high after the comings and goings around the wedding and the trauma of 12 days in doggy prison, best to go slow and tread carefully.
I wasn’t particularly enamoured of her at first, although Ged seems to have fallen very hard.  But she’s growing on me, and wheedling her way into my affections, so I know resistance is futile!
But let’s face it, I loved Tom so much and while I have desperately wanted another cat, I am loathe to let anyone take his place in my affections.  I feel disloyal to his memory if I fall for this little Tiger.  But a house always feels so much more like a home when there’s a cat waiting there for you.
She hasn’t taken long to make friends of us all and sure enough she came home before the weekend . . . she’s pretty content with her new-found family and warm, cosy home.
The deluge has begun again.  Everyone keeps commenting that March was, indeed, a miracle!  We lay the credit at ‘the power of positive thinking’ – we were determined that it wouldn’t rain in March, we kept saying so, we decided to believe so, and our thought shaped our reality.  We also said we didn’t care what it did in April . . . now that was foolish!  My sunny resolve and relaxed mindset is giving way to Eeyore-like gloom as we face day after day after relentless day of torrential rain.
Of course, the other problem is that I haven’t got anything to WEAR!  I grew out of jeans and their ilk weeks ago, and my elasticated waisted summer pants are way too cold for the Comboyne climate so I am in mini-skirts, tights and boots (they must be the mini skirts from my fat days!) and I can’t see me squeezing into those for much more than a month!  I have taken to riffling through my wardrobe every morning and trying to put together creative, comfortable clothing solutions that don’t make me look like a fat frump!  I have been fashioning fashion from things that haven’t seen the light of day for 15 years!
It was much easier in Fiji where a sarong or sulu hid all lumps, bumps and burgeoning belly!  Oh well, as soon as we have made some moolah again I guess I can go shopping!
Mischa, making herself very much at home . . . .

Ode to Tom Kitten

by . Posted on
17 Sep

While I was so sick and fighting fever demons in my bed that week of the raging temperature, someone else was sick and I had no idea. Tom has had a kidney infection before after a tick and it would appear that he was brewing another bout. By the time I was strong enough to stand and get around the house I noticed that he wasn’t himself and tick checked him and tried to ascertain what was wrong. No tick symptoms but he was definitely in pain so I resolved that when Ged got home (he had been up the coast doing a course for a long weekend) we would get him to a vet. I suppose I was so concerned with my own symptoms that I didn’t realise how ill Tom was or Tom, being Tom, just soldiered on, looking pretty normal, if a little subdued. When Ged came home we both examined him and resolved to take him to the vet the following day. I brought him in that night and put him in Phee’s basket by the fire to make sure he was warm (the nights are still cold) and he stretched out and looked quite all right. I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the loo and checked on him but he was long gone. My poor boy. He was the most amazing cat right from the word go when Phee adopted him at Tamworth. Phee was determined to have his little friend even though I was completely resistant. Tom won my heart though with his love for Phee and he let Phee drag him around by the head and play with him ad nauseam. They were true brothers. And for Tom, we were his family. Phee and I were his. Wherever we went he wanted to come too. He has come on countless runs with us – even as far as Flat Rock and back and it was always lovely to come home and know he was there. Wherever we had been, he was the heart and the hearthfire of our home. He used to lick those he loved (which could be a painful experience with that raspy tongue) and he was incredibly beautiful. True green eyes and the bushiest tail anyone has ever espied on a cat (maybe he was part possum). He was the hairiest cat I have ever seen. He had the softest, most beautiful nose and delicate little paws and he was a great ‘watcher’ from wherever he had picked for his day’s rest. He was an excellent mouser and it is true that he loved to kill birds but he knew he wasn’t allowed and used to try and restrain himself accordingly. Both times we moved he was just loose in the car with Phee and would get out and have a wee with Phee when we stopped and then pile back in the car for the rest of the way. He always came when he was called, wherever we were, because he knew he belonged with us. It took him a long time to settle in at Avalon. All those men and disruption and none of his furniture to claim and rest on. But he had finally settled in, had decided to love Ged and there seemed to be no good reason for him to leave us.

He has left a huge whole for such a little man. It’s horrible coming home to an empty house. Phee is lost without his best friend to rouse when he wants to play or chat, and when we come home there’s no-one to tell all about his adventures. He was such a joy – a low maintenance constant on my bed, in our lives, moulting all over the furniture. And he and Phee would curl up together wherever, they just loved each other so much. I can’t really believe he’s gone. It was so totally unexpected. He was only 3. Just a baby. I feel so guilty that I din’t get him to a vet earlier, but guilt is a useless emotion and will not bring him back. Ged dug a huge hole by the house and I put him in there with part of the wool rug he loved so much. I have planted a baby bottlebrush over him to attract the birds which he would like.

I am so tempted to try and replace him but I honestly think he is irreplaceable. The bond he had with Phee couldn’t be recreated. It was a truly unique relationship and no-one who ever saw them playing together will forget the miracle that they presented and the laughter they engendered with their bizarre antics. Plus a cat in the country like this is a bad idea for the birds. So we will have to save up for a girlfriend for Phee and we will have to learn to live without him. He was a loyal, loving and true friend and we are so sad that he is gone.

I wish him happy hunting grounds and friends as dear to him as we were. He was very special and totally unique. He won over even the most hardened cat haters. I hope he can forgive me for not taking care of him better and that he rests in peace and joy.


THE VERY BEAUTIFUL AND SPECIAL TOM CAT.  MAY HE REST  IN PEACE.