A vacancy has occurred in the Corbett family. Tilly the tabby has lost her grip on the twig, or more relevantly fallen off the bed, and if I can be allowed to buck fashion and call it as it is, she has died. Euthanasia as a result of cancer, if you need more detail.
No more will Tilly wait at the front fence in the morning for the children walking to school, rubbing purringly through their legs as their hands reach down to her, rolling onto her back when she feels the need for even more attention, and she won't be there for the rerun in the afternoon either.
She's been a hit with many groups of children walking to and from the primary school around the corner since she arrived as a kitten from the RSPCA 11 or 12 years ago, and at the end of each year she's seen a few off to high school to be replaced a couple of months later by some from the new kindergarten intake.
For a few days in April this year she wasn't at the fence in the morning waiting for the children, and I knew she wasn't there because I heard the children calling her, and she wasn't at the fence at the usual time in the afternoon even though I'd seen her about during the day.
There was consternation morning and afternoon for several days until Tilly realised she'd been arriving at the front fence an hour early. Initially, I suppose, she'd assumed the children's absence meant it was the weekend or school holidays but daylight saving had ended, the clock was set back an hour, and no one had told Tilly.
By the Thursday after the end of daylight saving she'd reset her own clock.
You may recall it was Tilly who eight years ago mended what may have been a leg fracture and by my calculations saved me $1700 in vet fees. There were no X-rays, anaesthetic, operations, fancy splints, overnight stays in the animal hospital, check-up consultations, and more X-rays.
No more will Tilly wait at the front fence in the morning for the children walking to school, rubbing purringly through their legs as their hands reach down to her.
After I wrote about it there was consternation that Tilly had recovered over three weeks of loving home care without so much as $1000 spent at the vet's clinic.
Tilly was lucky that was her only injury because she had no fear of dogs, which led me for a few years to believe she was simple until one day I found her weeing into the bath's plug hole. I wasn't happy but I was impressed.
We won't be filling the Tilly vacancy.
No, that is not because of the hate thrown so freely at cats in the name of environmental concern. And it is not because Tilly was or her replacement would be a threat to Australia's wildlife.
Sure, she was a predator, in the same way our poodle was a predator. In fact I saw Lucy the poodle despatch a rat much more quickly and efficiently than any of our cats ever have. Not that the Australian bush is thick with feral poodles.
Our cats, Tilly and the surviving Molly and Milly, are pet cats who are too lazy to threaten anything other than rats and mice, and I am confident that is the case for the great majority of pet cats, desexed pet cats, in urban areas.
Yes, they are outside for as much of the day as they wish, which is usually not for long, and they are outside for the early evening. They could be outside overnight if they wished but they don't so wish, and if they did we'd lock them inside.
Milly, the youngest, stalks small skinks and occasionally makes a feint at the magpies, which are untroubled. She and the others were never tempted by our annual flock of tiny Pekin bantam chicks or the two miniature rabbits that roamed our backyard, and only a couple of times did we have to rescue one of the white doves that would spread themselves over the backyard grass after a rinse in the birdbath.
I will concede that abandoned in the bush they would revert to a wild state, killing to survive, as might Lucy the poodle, but like the hordes of cat owners deemed irresponsible because they allow their cats outside we will not be abandoning our pets in the bush, be they cats or dogs.
The misplaced hate was starkly illustrated by two signs I saw in an Adelaide caravan park a few weeks ago, "DOGS WELCOME" and "NO CATS ALLOWED". I should point out that in caravan parks dogs are often off the lead and the few cats you see are never off a lead or outside the caravan or a cage, lest, of course, they head for home 1000km away. Later the park manager told me that cats were not permitted because the park was often visited by koalas. As you will realise if your mind hasn't been poisoned by the hate campaign against the domestic cat, dogs can and do kill koalas, a cat could not and would not try.
I agree, feral cats are a huge problem in the bush, as are feral dogs, feral goats, feral deer, feral donkeys, feral camels and feral pigs, but the loathing seems to be reserved for the cat. Let's share that loathing among them all, and as it is for the domestic cat let's share that loathing among the non-feral version too.
We won't be replacing Tilly because I am happier with two cats than three. I'd be happier with one cat than with two, although I'm unlikely to get that reduction past the committee of one that runs this place.
I'd be less than happy without a cat, because as everyone bar the pinch-faced haters will know, a home without a cat is no home at all. So join with me, please, in a round of applause for Tilly and all the other domestic cats that have made our homes a better place.
jeffcorb@gmail.com
letters@theherald.com.au
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