R.I.P. Dear Dave

 

Today was full of heartbreak. The end of the road for our fluffy little tabby cat, Dave.

She came to us in March 2011, sitting on our back porch and wooing us all with her big green eyes until we had to take her in.

She has been with us through thick and thin, for almost as long as the kids can remember.

Always a constant presence. A warm furry body to snuggle away a sleepless child's anxiety. The jingle bell on her collar, warning birds to beware. The hum of her purr as she settled herself on the hip or belly of whoever sat still long enough in a sunny spot.

There's a legend that she was a street cat, a fighter. Sometimes she'd disappear for days, reappearing with sticky fur or nicks taken out of her ears.

But she always came home.

[ CONTINUE READING.......]

It's Monday Again (you know what that means)

This morning Dave the Female Cat was sitting up on the kitchen chair like some kind of Egyptian statuette.
(Poor Dave has been on the Outs a bit lately since Dash has developed asthma. No more sleeping on Dash's Bed. Doors slammed in poor Dave's face. She's feeling it.)

Anyway, there's Dave, looking like some kind of serene ancient carving, when the door to Scrag's room creaks. Dave's ears jerk forward and her body tenses.
We all giggle, and Dash says, "Watch out Dave, here comes Scrag!"
I say, "Any second now she's gonna jump and run..." (Dave and Scrag have a history; Scrag loves Dave and wants to hug and squeeze her; Dave - not so much)

Then Dash says: "Dave, you have to learn to overcome your fear!"
and Miss fab says: "Yeah Dave, or you will be trapped by fear all your life!"

Whatthe?? Who have they been listening to, these Wise Young Philosophers?
Sunday School? Shark Boy and Lava Girl?
Whoever it is, it sure made me smile today.

Baby Bird, Where You Gone?

[source]

The grey streak catches my eye as it sneaks past the kitchen door. What is Dave the Cat up to?
"Mum! Mum! Dave's got a bird!"
Oh great. Birds in the house totally freak me out.
The kids corner Dave in the bedroom where she is hovering protectively over her prize.
"It's still alive!" someone shrieks.
Right. That's it. We're shutting the door and waiting for Dad to come back. No way am I trying to catch a flapping bird.
"Leave Dave alone and get out of the room!" I order.
But kids being kids, they all completely ignore me - here is a fascinating adventure at breakfast time, how could they possibly stay away?

Of course they open the door. And of course the cat escapes. Dave the Huntress stalks into the dining room and drops the bird under a chair. She sits there eyeballing it, occasionally batting it with a paw.

[source]

Oh my. It's a baby. A little baby bird and it's barely moving.
I thrust aside my fear of flapping things, and summon all my courage.
I will have to rescue this baby myself, no way I can just sit back and watch Dave teasing it.
"Get a towel, someone," I demand, "And someone grab Dave."
While the kids hold Dave, I use the towel to scoop up the baby bird. It is tiny.
Its little heart is beating so fast. One eye is injured, half closed. Was it my imagination or did this baby bird just look right into my soul? I have the feeling the bird is grateful, that it knows it's safe now.

The kids run to make a bed from a box, line it with soft things, put water in a dish.
"Can we keep it, mum?" they want to know.
"Well, the bird is hurt, yes, we can look after it... but it's not a pet!"
"I think she's a girl. Can we call her Tinkerbell?"
"We'll have to keep her away from Dave, mum..."

"The bird is hurt, guys," I warn them, "She might not live. You have to prepare yourselves for that."
They go off to school, with a great story to share for News.
I sit on the window seat holding the little bird, willing it to survive.
Eventually I tuck the bird into the bed the kids have made and go about my chores.
When I come back to check on her, she has closed her eyes and her heart is beating slower.
It doesn't look good.
Not long after that, Daddy returns and pronounces her Gone.

3.20pm the kids burst through the door.
"Can we see her?"
"Is she better?"
"Where is she?"

This is the part I've been dreading.
"I'm sorry guys, the bird was hurt too badly. She died not long after you left for school. But at least she didn't die alone and scared; she was safe in her little box..."
Miss Fab nods sagely, surprisingly calm, as if it was news she was expecting.
But the boy, the big nearly-nine-year-old Boy bursts into tears.

"Why did she have to die?! It's not fair! I'm so angry at Dave for killing her..."
I put my arms around him, his whole body is shaking with sobs. I'm surprised at such a strong reaction from him.
He looks up at me.
"Is she in Heaven?"

The question we all want to know when a life is snuffed out. Where are they now?
I'm no theologian, but I take to heart the promise, "He will wipe away every tear from your eyes, and there will be no more mourning, no more death, no more sorrow..."

"I really do think so," I reply. "She mattered to you, even though she was just a little baby bird. God sees your tears, you know. He sees that you cared about this bird. And guess what? God cares about that bird too. Jesus said that when even a sparrow falls to the ground, God notices and He cares."

My Boy wipes his tears away, nodding, satisfied.
He goes off to find the bird and give her a burial.

I am left standing, marveling at my son's tender heart. Thankful that he cares about God's creatures.
He will never be the kind of  boy who pulls the wings off butterflies or torments kittens.

This little moment has given me a glimpse into what he's made of. There's a compassionate heart beating in there.
It is hard to recognise at times. Often it's masked by childish selfishness and immaturity.
Disguised and clouded by endless demands and boyish mischief.

But its there. A kind heart. A tender heart.
I will hold onto this as we move into the next stage of life with our Boy.
His birthday is tomorrow, my own baby bird.
Where has the time gone? It has flown and taken my baby with it.
Come back, baby bird! Stay with me.
No, the baby is gone for good.
He has flown away and left me with a Boy, Nine Years Old.
A boy with a tender heart, deep down.

Happy Birthday Dash.
23.11.02
♥

It's a Cat's Life

by Dave the Cat

Meow.
That's how we say hello in Cat-ese.
It's Dave here, Dave the cat.
Surprised? You should be.
Not many moggies are as computer-literate as I am.
I have spent hours pretending to laze in the sun while my owner tapped away on this machine. I learnt her tricks and now I am ready to take over the world...

Hahaha. Meow.
That was just a little Cat Humour. As if we Cats have plans to take over the world!!!!
We are far too lazy.

So. This machine is abandoned while my owner is away.
It sits gathering dust. The other humans who are feeding me don't seem to know what to do with it.
But I must say that while they are here it is so peaceful.
For once there is no banging, stomping or slamming of doors.
No screaming, yelling, squabbling or crying.
No need for me to run as soon as I see that little one - the one with the cheeky grin.
Yeoooow, but he can pull a cat's tail hard.
I learnt that the hard way.
Now when I see him coming, I scamper before he gets the chance to chase me.

I found a safe place up on the neighbour's roof.
I use my claws to climb up the cabbage tree; from there it's an easy leap from the fence to the roof.
Up on the roof I can take note of the comings and goings, enjoy the view undisturbed.
When things get crazy down below, I come up here where the air is clear and all I can hear is the birdies tweeting.

I do sometimes wonder what I was thinking when I chose this family to adopt.
Sitting on their back step for four days, urging them with my big soft eyes to "feed me! love me! take me in!" I got a pretty good view of what life would be like with them.
Noisy. Chaotic. At times Perilous {they do have small children, after all}

I mean, I could have hung around that old lady's back door, the one with the peaceful roof.
She probably would have fed me tuna and milk, not that crunchy stuff this lot feeds me.
She would never have pulled my tail or chased me or tried to dress me up like a doll.
And I'll bet she would have given me a better name than Dave.
Dave!! Come on!
I'm a female cat for yowling out loud!
At least I was. I know I once had girlie bits before that trip to the vet, but now I'm just confused.
Surely they could have thought up a better name than Dave, though.
Even Fluffy would have been preferrable. Or Stripes. Mog. Or Betty.
But I'm stuck with Dave. And I'm used to it, I guess.
The same way I am used to the noise, the shouting, the chasing.

I mean, I could always leave, I do have a choice.
I thought about it once; in fact I actually did leave at one point.
I got as far as the end of the street and it started raining. So I slept the night in a box and didn't wake up til dinner time the next day.

When I turned up there was so much excitement. Those short humans all came running, though the Daddy with the deep voice did not look too impressed. Apparently I had interrupted some kind of celebration and he was a bit miffed.
He said, "Great. Upstaged on my birthday by a Cat. Twice."

I don't really know what he meant by that, but I think he forgave me pretty fast.
All it took was for me to jump up on his lap and start purring. He's really a big softie, that one.
Loud and boomy his voice may be, but his heart is as soft as a road-kill sparrow's guts.

So, here I am wondering where my noisy humans have gone to. They left those silver-haired ones here to look after the place; they feed me and let me sleep in the sun, and really don't disturb me.
Its very peaceful round here, as I said.
Peaceful... but a little boring.
I'm starting to miss my noisy humans and wonder when they'll be back. Even that little one.
Running from him is about all the exercise I get these days, now that I have my own family and guaranteed food. Even if it is that boring crunchy stuff.

So yeah, I don't regret choosing these noisy humans for my family.
They're a bit crazy, but that's fine by me... after all a female cat called Dave who climbs trees and writes blog posts is crazy enough to fit right in.

Gratefully Loving Stuff

This little person makes me feel grateful every day. Grateful I am his mummy. Grateful he is my Scrag.

Every day I am loving him to pieces as I moochy-kiss his sweet cheeks and squish him in a huggie-huggie.

Each morning he squeezes in between us, waving Buzz Lightyear and calling "Good Morning mama! Good morning Daddy!" The sun shines in his dimply smile, even when its still dark.
Within minutes he is joined by a lanky brother and the competition begins.
"My hot mama!" "No my hot mama!"
Grateful indeed my boys love to snuggle me. Loving them much.

And when Scrag says, "Mama, I'na get mawwied a you!" well.... *smile*

Grateful that Autumn has finally decided to arrive.
I was getting worried. Here we are nearly Winter and my confused Hibiscus is still in bloom. The leaves were still green on the trees and worse, even my spring bulbs are so muddled they've started springing up early. So thanks, Autumn, for finally showing your face. I've been looking forward to your vibrant colours and crunchy leaves.

Loving the idea of a warm fire. A cosy bed. A good book or two.

Loving our nutty cat. Laughing like crazy when we discover where she goes to hide from the noise. Cat on a hot tin roof? More like cat on the neighbours roof! There she sits, gazing over the horizon, enjoying her peace. And how does she know we're looking at her? This cat is crazy. She must be. She adopted us remember?

And what happens when I set the table and yell that dinner's ready? Who is the only person to come running? Dave, that's who. Dave, our crazy female cat. Love that nutty moggy and her fluffy silly ways. She fits right in.

Loving the pull that Buzz Lightyear has. Space Rangers can get people to do anything. Hoping that this time some bribery might see the end to pullups and changing pooey backsides in our house at last.

Loving Saturday morning football, and a rainbow overhead.

Loving that this guy gets to shine. Loving his new team and grateful for their warm welcome. Loving that they rave about our boy and tell us what lovely manners he has, what a great footballer he is, that he could go all the way. We think so too.

Loving our football club around the corner and Saturday afternoon prizegiving. Grateful for a wonderful community. And No Smoking in bars and restaurants. Loving that we look around the room and see faces we know from over the road, down the street, across the fence. I love where I live.

Loving blue-tongued girls and cans of Sprite. Grateful that this time I didn't get one sprayed over me by an energetic pre-teen who was soundly scolded by his mortified mother..

Grateful that though I am facing a challenge or two I am surrounded by people I love. I have sweet cheeks to kiss and warm wriggling bodies to snuggle. I have books to read and eyes to see. A roof over my head and a nice warm bed.

♥

{Joining in with PaisleyJade and Maxabella Loves.}

What are you loving/grateful for lately??

Another Busy Weekend in Pictures

Birds on a wire. Relaxing on a clear blue autumn morning. I just had to snap them as I raced between one activity and the next.

First up was Daddy's Birthday on Friday. Oh, you noticed I have been absent? I was busy spoiling the King of the Day. He had a crown and everything. I planned a birthday present hunt, spent ages planning rhyming clues... and getting the kids to make cute cards to attach the clues to the hidden presents...

Present Number one is this little verse:
Dad you know we love you And think you’re cool

We hope you have a great day While we’re at school

Lay back on your pillow And rest your head

Cos here comes some yummy

Breakfast in bed

Then would you know it, but the bloddy cat went AWOL.
You know, Dave? The cat who adopted us? The one we surrendered to the SPCA and then adopted back just on Wednesday? The one kids just love to pieces and now can't live without?

Yep that one. She went missing for 24 long sad hours.

Great timing, Dave.
Go missing on Daddy's birthday morning so that he is not greeted by the happy sounds of the birthday chorus, but by wails of... "Where's Dave?" and "I want Daaaaaaave!"
Daddy was not impressed at being upstaged by a cat, I can tell you.

But thankfully our story has a happy ending. Dave reappeared at dinner time during birthday cake and grape-juice toasts with the kids. Daddy was in the middle of saying, what a lovely family he has and how proud he is of his kids and isn't he blessed, when there's a shout, "Dave! There's Dave! Dave's back!!"

Once again upstaged by a cat.

Oh well. At least now the kids are smiling... and realise that Dave is an adventurer and won't be tied down.
She comes home for food and snuggles.
We'd best not get too dependant on her! She is a cat, after all.

So. Friday night was the Dinner Party, at home cos we couldn't get a babysitter. So I turned our dining room into a Chinese Restaurant... (Love those lanterns from Typo. Love Typo.)

What better than great Chinese food (eaten with chopsticks) while enjoying a laugh with good  friends in a relaxed atmosphere...?

...Drinking Spanish Sangria and eating....

...Homemade Italian Tiramisu???!!! Mmmmmm. Best ever. I'll share the recipe with you later ♥

Then up bright and early the next day for the Walk for Christchurch. Only I couldn't actually do the walk because I busted my knee on a practise walk a few days earlier (too little too late; I am so unfit). Luckily all the people who sponsored me, wrote "Simone AND Gail". Phew.

So out of guilt and a desire to support the awesome efforts of my lovely bloggy friends, I offered to take photos...

Lyns, Sammy, Meg and Gail - my lovely bloggy pals (and Miss Marvellous too)

Aren't they amazing? Over $4600 raised so far. Gail is a legend for organising it all. I actually did manage to do the walk Gail organised last year for Haiti... (honest)... so I know how hard the Isthmus walk really is - 16km over four volcanoes. Not the same as 16km on the flat. We are talking major hills here, people.



Me & Gail Last year so you know I am not a total slacker

And these girls did it in three hours. The sign estimates 4-6 hours to complete the walk, so these ladies were racing. Made me grateful for my busted knee cos there aint no way I would have been able to keep up with them!!

It's not too late to donate, ya know! Click here. Go on. Christchurch needs it and these girls worked/walked darn  hard for it!

{Gail's hilarious Walk Story here}

So also on Saturday was....

Dash's first football game of the season. A new team, a new strip (that's a uniform, for all you non-soccer types)

He had a great game. They won 7-1. Dash scored two goals. He loves his new team; there are some awesome players in there. I think it could be a great season.

Meanwhile this little guy was chatting up all the little girls. At one point there were four of them gathered around him. I was too slow with the camera, missed the shot. But this one is mighty cute dontcha think?

Then me and this little charmer (with big-girl teeth) did a spot of letter-box decorating while daddy worked on finishing off the fort.

A rusty old letterbox from the inorganic collection has been turned into a funky message centre.

But Mr G didn't get to finish off the top level. Oh no. Some people over the back fence complained. Kidless people of course. People who want to sunbathe topless and don't want kids looking over the fence at them. Eek. How sad can you get.

So rather than make trouble with the over-the-fence people Mr G removed the railing (for now) and we will be planting something that grows really tall, really quick. (Any suggestions????)

Then we'll add a railing and a ladder. In the meantime the big kids can climb up to the top level using the fence. It's a perfect place for lego games un hindered by Scragness. And Scrag gets to play pirates with Daddy using his cool-as telescope and steering wheel.

And finally.
While Mr G was mowing the lawns he collected some fallen feijoas and green lemons. He collected them rather artistically in this fallen palm frond. And asked me to take a photo... for the blog...

There's some artyness hidden in that Geordie somewhere. I must be rubbing off on him. ♥

Righto. Now any minute my peace will be shattered as hoardes of hungry kids are about to return demanding food. So i must away and prepare myself. And fold washing. And order my online shopping.

It was a great weekend full of highs and lows.
How about yours?

♥

Wordless Wednesday: Dave

We have all fallen in love with a little striped cat.

She turned up on our doorstep on Friday and has stayed there ever since.
Not miaowing, not trying to sneak inside. Just looking at us all with her big green eyes. Patiently letting the kids pick her up, pat her, love her.

They named her Dave.
We only just found out she's a girl. But the name will stay.
And we hope that Dave will too.

I called the SPCA to find out what to do.
Surrender her as a stray, they said. They will keep her for seven days.
Check her out, de-worm, de-flea, neuter and microchip her.
Then if no owner contacts them within that seven days we can adopt her for a mere fifty bucks.
We can bring her home and let her into our house, without having to worry about flea bites.
She won't have to sleep outside any more.

She is already firmly in our hearts, this plain little tabby.

The kids said their goodbyes this morning, calling, "See you next week Dave!"
I can't tell you how surprised I am at the love I feel for this sweet little cat.
She mewed in the cat box on the way to drop her off this morning.
A tiny little sound, conveying her confusion and uncertainty, as she travelled in a car for what seems to be the first time.

We wonder where Dave's owners are (and why she left them).

We wonder why she chose us.

And in my heart I am grateful.

I feel like heaven has sent us this little bundle of striped fur to love.

I know this is meant to be a wordless post, but I had to say it:
We ♥ you Dave.

Dave I miss you already.
Dave I hope we get to bring you home.
Dave, see you next week.

• Dash's Cute Story About Dave
• Miss Fab's Cute Story About Dave

♥