Dad's Cat

My Dad has this cat. It is black and white and scruffy and he loves it. He REALLY loves it! It is called Felix or Mr. Fee. It has half a tail with a nasty hard scab on the end that the vet said is fine. It has a lump in it's back and it crabs when it walks. Felix cannot see at all well so tends to bite and scratch strangers.

But not Dad. Dad can do what he likes to his beloved pet. He can stroke it down the length of it's back, flip it upside down, scratch it's ears and God knows what else! He reckons it is like a dog. He said that it hops in his bed each night and he makes it go to the corner by pointing at the corner. He thinks this is the best cat in the world!

My sister and I had a short discussion about this man-cat relationship earlier in the week. We both decided that he loves Mr. Fee more than he loves us! He always has a Felix story to thrill us with. In fact he told me on Saturday that Mr. Fee's whiskers were: "two hundred and forty mil long!" It was almost like a challange!

On Sunday I visited the home of my parents to help the old man carry a lazy boy chair in the house. He got back from Blockhouse Bay and we wrestled the chair indoors with the "help" of my Mother, who gave us a lot of "useful" instructions! Once in place, he sat in his chair. Then his face changed and looked around behind him saying to Mum: "How is the cat?" I knew then that the cat was his one true love, his soul mate if you will. He never used to come home from work and ask after my sister or my self!

He actually admitted once that he never wanted children and in the heat of an arguement with my Mother he siad that their lives were ruined because of the "Two ball's and chain's" tied around their neck." He used to call us: "The Beasties." He called other peoples kids Beasties as well. He told us not that long agao he really preferred us now we were grown up.

I don't mind actually. It will make me feel less guilty when I dump his ass a resthome! But seriously, I don't mind. At least he was honest about it. Maybe it was because he was an only child of older parents. His mum was severley disabled. In the 14 years and nine months I knew her, she left the house four times. The fourth occasion it was in a body bag. One was a trip to hospital, one was for a drive to Howick, and she once came to our house on Christmas day. All four trips were huge dramas.

I am glad though that my old Dad can get such great comfort and pleasure from a grumpy, short tailed long whiskered cat that narrowly escaped a one way car ride to the SPCA!