Positive Life NSW

Madame De La PussyNot long after my partner Geoff and I started living together, Bertie my de-sexed ginger ‘tom’ suddenly stopped eating and became very ill. The vet informed us that he had terminal kidney disease and to expect the worst. I have memories of Bert (who was by now losing-it and disoriented) sitting in the pouring rain on a stone terrace in the garden with Geoff by his side crying uncontrollably. Bert had been with me through the horror years (the 90s) and had been a source of constant consolation in the face of frequent bereavements. He appeared on the front verandah during the wake of my house-mate’s lover in 1991. I remember the day well because it was my birthday, and not wanting to disturb the solemnity, I remained mute, but glad when ‘the ginger puss’ strolled across the verandah, gave me a quick, knowing glance and climbed into my lap.

After the burial rituals, I had planned to leave a respectful time before getting another pet. Geoff however, was clearly missing Bert, so a decision was reached to take a trip to the Yagoona RSPCA. It was the end of winter, and an abundance of gorgeous cats and dogs were available for adoption. After selecting a black and white Persian unluckily called ‘Lucky’, I changed my mind in favour of a two year old female tortoise shell called ‘Shadow’. Lucky was taken back to the cages, and probably to oblivion. The Yagoona female staff (all of whom wore bib-and-braces in a fetching masculine kaki colour) brusquely and efficiently vetted our qualifications and suitability for an adoption.

The sign around her neck read: ‘Shadow– inside cat. Not suitable for small children.’ Eminently suitable we thought! Maybe she had eaten a baby or two. Quite a lot of the time on the way home was spent doing circuits of the car at dizzying speed. She seemed ‘highly-strung’ and I considered Valium - after all I am a gay man and know how to self medicate!

The next major hurdle was the name. ‘Shadow’ - how un-homosexual - it would have to go! Options were considered. This took some time, but eventually, Geoff ’s love of French history and our mutual amusement with the double entendre about the BBC character Mrs Slocombe and her pussy, meant that ‘Madame De La Pussy’ won the day. She does answer to a range of other names, which are far too vulgar to list, but Madame De La Pussy is her official title – on legal documents etc.

She didn’t stay an indoor pussy for long. It was about three days until she discovered the joys of a garden, the river, “the disputed pussy territory” between our house and the house next door, and the next-door cat Sabrina. Sabrina has been completely intimated by ‘Madame De La Pussy’ and now spends a good deal of time as ‘an inside pussy’ hiding under our neighbor’s bed.

Needless to say ‘Madame De La Pussy’ has the good life. Her attendants/servants, (Geoff and me), cater to her every whim, and her day revolves around a leisurely progressive circuit of sunny or shady garden spots and comfortable garden furniture, depending upon the season. She sleeps on the bed, on the dining room table, on a table under the lamp, in the lounge room, on the top of the wardrobe, on me and on the computer key board -especially when I’m tying to work. She has a taste for Tuna Royale, smoked salmon, raw chicken breast and blue cheese. She also has an undignified and raucous meow. We wish there were classes for cats, where they could receive voice training to be more demur, but alas.

We love her, she’s our surrogate child and I couldn’t imagine life without her. She’s an essential component of the glue that cements our home together. We’re homosexuals you see!