SUNDAY 15 AUGUST CARNARVON
After breakfast, I did a heap of washing – three loads! That had built up since way back in the Pilbara.
John played Scroungers bowls at the caravan park. Not much joy.
L phoned. Our old cat. Tarz, was put down today. L’s sister came to help, because L was upset by it all. She’d known Tarz for the three years now that she’d lived at our place. She had treated the cat very reverentially – buried her in a box, with flowers, and a 24 hour candle. She took photos to send us. The cat was about 15 years old – not a bad innings for a Russian Blue. But we would miss her pronounced personality about the place.
Apparently, the remaining cat seemed to know what was going on, and showed signs of missing her. We were sad. She had originally lived at the house behind John and “adopted” him. When we married and he was moving, her original owners gave her to us as a wedding present.
The other cat – the old tabby – was a Mother’s Day present, as a kitten, from my children. One should always be suspicious of a boxed present that requires air holes in the lid!
More TV Olympics watching.