If you read my post “What follows on from the June Photo Challenge?” you will know that I’m one of those people who suffered withdrawal symptoms once it ended.
I religiously sourced my daily photographs and was even inspired to blog about many of them. I thrived on the creative outlet the challenge provided so I’ve since jumped onto two new challenges via Flickr (yes, sucker for punishment, me).
So when I came across Sunday Selections from Kim of Frogpondsrock, I could not resist adding yet another photo blogging challenge to my plate!
The great part is anyone can join the fun. There’s no caveat that you be a brilliant photographer (I’m not). The motivation is to just share your old photos. All you need to do once you’ve found your selection is to write your “Sunday Selections” post, add your photos, link back to Kim, and then add your name to her Linky list at Frogpondsrock.
With such simple rules, I dived into iPhoto with gusto and could not go past these photos or their associated memory of Jeffrey Puddy.
Like all our previous pet cats, Jeffrey Puddy was a stray we adopted. Jeffrey was a little different being a bit older than our usual kittens and seemed fairly well cared for. We didn’t intend to take in a pet but that was probably inevitable once we broke the golden rule: Don’t feed a stray cat if you don’t want them to come back!
Since Jeffrey seemed a keeper, we thought we’d better decide on a name. The whole family, all six of us pitched in with ideas. Now even though we had our suspicions Jeffrey was a she-cat, somehow the name “Jeffrey Puddy” kept bouncing back to the top of the list. So the name stuck and she was officially sentenced to a life of gender-confusion. She must have been quite thankful then, when on our first vet’s visit, “she” was actually confirmed to be a responsibly neutered “he”.
Jeffrey was a lovely cat. He was one of those proud cats, sitting tall with chest puffed out, yet not too arrogant or fussy. He wasn’t dopey or scatty like some of our previous charges. He did the usual catty things like scratch furniture, dig claws into your skin, purr at affection, kill mice and birds (not so fun) and, errrrrr, eat corn.
Over the years we even found out he was probably the long-lost cat of my sister’s school friend because of his colouring and the unique little kink at the end of his tail. Not sure how he ended up so far from her home. Anyways……..
Jeffrey Puddy lived to the ripe old age of 19 human years, which is 92 cat years (apparently). That’s pretty amazing for a cat.
He was much loved and even won over my mum who tried to keep her emotional distance from caring for our pets. Jeffrey, however, got under her skin and she even became accustomed to his early morning wake up calls of frenzied clawing under her mattress with accompanying miaos.
Soon after he passed, my mum and sister came across a gorgeous little garden statue of a cat that so reminded us all of Jeffrey Puddy. They bought it, and with great love, placed it right next to the yellow mini-rose bush under which he is buried.
Every time I go home to visit mum, I love to take a wander in her garden and spend a moment reminiscing. The blooming roses and little poised cat statue are such sweet reminders of all those precious years we spent with Jeffrey Puddy, our longest and last childhood family pet.