Bill Riddell

The Animal Saga Begins

Lately whenever writers block sets in I have found myself writing about my family’s history with pets. Over my 23 years we have had that many that I truly could write a book about them. I haven’t got their yet, however from time to time I will share some of my progress in an ongoing saga. Here is the first part, which deals with some of our cats.

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My family home, a few acres of what could be classed as a hobby farm set amongst bushland (native Australian forest) is really a pet cemetery. I would love to see archaeologists digging up the grounds in thousands of years and trying to explain so many remains.

Taking pride of place amongst most of the unmarked graves is Dennis. Dennis was the wise Buddha of our family’s many cats. He eventually taught most of what he knew to Spaz, his protege. They looked quite alike, both ginger, except Spaz was fat and had patches of white on his feet and chest.

Dennis was Zen like, at least it seemed that way to me as a child. The other cats would create quite a fuss when I pulled their tails or got a little zealous with my patting, running in fear of their life and causing me to chase them. Wise Dennis would just calmly back away.

However he wasn’t completely docile. He was also a Shaolin killer monk cat. While our other cats could all pick off their share of small wild birds Dennis’s party trick was killing rabbits. I never fully understood how. I would often seem him sitting for hours perched high up on the dam bank of our property, obviously observing the rabbit burrows a few hundred meters away along a small creek. He was stalking his prey from a distance and learning their habits.

He would often leave their remains, mostly fur and a view organs he had no taste for, ceremoniously on our doormat. Too many times a family member would unknowingly step out into a pile of what was once Bugs Bunny’s third cousin early in the morning.

Dennis was patient, teaching the idiot Spaz his Zen ways. His calming influence vastly improved Spaz’s demeanour, from tear about, destroyer of furniture and scratcher of arms – to a docile sook who would dribble endlessly after a good pat. Spaz eventually could catch rabbits, but he never quite had the same flair or killer instinct. His attempts to imitate Denis’s ceremonial laying of the remains was hit and miss as well. They were typically small baby bunnies rather than the full grow ones Denis was so proud of, or he would leave the whole rabbit, minus perhaps it’s head.

Not long after his protege’s first catch Denis disappeared. His health had been deteriorating over the past year, he had reached the ripe old age of 18 and had earnt his retirement. After 3 days without a sign of him our families friends, who lived about a kilometre away phoned to say they had found his body. Rather than bother us with his death he slipped away and by sheer coincidence (he had never been to their house before) he chose to die underneath a car that was sitting on their property.

During the years we have certainly gone through quite a few cats, I’ve honestly lost count. There was the originals, Denis and his female companion Mutzi. Mutzi was a feisty cat, probably because she didn’t take my tail pulling lying down. She passed away one night, old age had caught up with her.

Then there was Hypo, a female tortise shell. As the name would suggest she had an unfortunate mental illness that caused her to become incredibly hyperactive. After several years tormenting us she started an argument with a snake and lost. She passed away within a few hours of being bitten – it was a terrible thing to witness, her body fighting the toxins coursing through her body. Despite attempts to save her after consulting a vet, Hypo lost the fight.

Several kittens tried to take her place, one ran away and was never seen again. My father tragically killed another while building a brick chimney. It climbed up the staggered brick steps my dad was building from the ground to the sky, my dad steped down onto the same brick as the poor kitten and broke it, badlly.

Spaz, his name an homage of sorts to Hypo and a reflection of his earlly personality would come next…

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Stay tuned for the next part of the saga – more cats, a few dogs, oh and penty of ducks and chickens, a pair of sheep, dozens of different birds plus more. Oh and in case your havent read it yet, we even had a pet kangaroo.

Until then I’d love to hear about your childhood pets.