Wow! – 5 weeks goes by so fast. Now there’s a bit of a countdown going on here at the moment as I move out tomorrow.

The kitty cat is, I’m sure, looking forward to “mum” coming home – hahaha, just kidding….little kitty cat has no idea at all. I thought she would suspect when brought out the suitcase for the clothes and start dismantling the gear in the kitchen and bathroom, but she just went off to her favourite chair, curled up and has been asleep most of the day. She did wake up and lift her head for about 30 seconds when I got the vacuum cleaner close to her, but didn’t see it as a threat so just went back to sleep.
“Dismantling the kitchen…” Now that sounds like I have a lot of stuff. I really don’t. Although, living at Pyes Pa with Greerton so close and all those Op Shops, I have to admit it’s been difficult to stay away from them. So there has been occasions that I have relented and spent a few hours mooching about and trying to ferret out the good stuff.
Found an excellent winter coat – excellent winter shoes and a pretty decent jersey.
Now let me tell you a little story ….
The little kitty cat that I’m looking after is now 18. Her mum had told me that if
anything went wrong to take her to the vet and he would make the call.
Well – it happened. Little miss stopped eating and just spent the entire time on the bed sleeping. She managed to drink a wee bit of water, but that was all. So worried was I that at one stage during the night I kept waking up and checking to see if she was still alive. By morning the decision was made that we were off to the vet.
The vet turned out to be a locum (temp) – a lovely lady locum vet and both she and the nurse decided that it wasn’t too cool an idea for me to have to take on such a responsibility.
The upshot was that the vet thought the kitty cat’s kidneys were probably packing in and that other organs were slowly shutting down, however, without taking blood tests she wouldn’t know for sure. Puddy was pretty dehydrated as well which was what I had thought, so… in went a couple of liquid, slow release patches, a shot of anit-biotics (or something like that), a bit of cleaning of the teeth which could have started the whole thing and to top it off, a shot of steroid (which the vet reckoned would give her a new lease of life and should last for about four weeks, plenty of time till mum came home).

Back into the car cage, into the car and a quick 10 minute trip home …. out of the car, out of the cage and guess what the little princess did? Yup, straight to the food bowl and into the tucker. From then on there’s been no looking back.
Moral of the story is: When I’ve gone out to pasture, remind me to get into the steroids so that I can see out the end of my days full of beans, eating well and sleeping when I want.
I still have about 24 hours to go before I leave, but I’m hoping nothing will happen on my watch!


She was fine the first day, then, once she realised that mum was not home, she got a bit huffy. Of course, not when the food was about….oh no, that’s when she really cozied up. But once the tummy was full, she would just give me the evil stare and be very stand-offish until it was time to eat again.
Just over a week later and at night there was a break through. She jumped up on my knee, settled down and went to sleep while I watched TV. Score one for the cat sitter!


His idea is that we should look after them only until they are able to return to their country and help rebuild it. This is an idea that I, too, believe is the way to go. From my understanding, no true refugees ever wants to leave their homeland … let’s face it – would you? And, I’m sure you’d want to “go home” to reclaim your country as soon as you could.










