Bob Brown was a true Christmas Baby, born on Christmas Day in 2005.
Battling blindness, and mostly deaf, he finally called for his Spirit Driver on August 15 this year.
For months, we knew that just one little thing – whatever that might be – will tip him over the edge. Finishing lunch at home, I looked at him. He was looking in my direction. The light from the window made me look twice. There was something strange about his eye. The yellow iris was turning pink, surrounded around its circumference by a ring of red. I’m no doctor, and no vet. But I knew this to be a haemorrhage, or so I thought I knew. It was a detached retina.
There was no way back for Bob. Melanie at Balcatta Vet treated him and us with professional compassion. Kitty Heaven was Bob’s only way forward.
His transportation to is new realm was announced in a Facebook post featuring a sturdy toy car with a chocolate brown cat wearing driving goggles at the wheel. The little car was a birthday gift to me the previous year. I instantly treasured it, because I understood immediately it was Bob Brown at the wheel. The sheer determination and ballsiness of this little cat meant it could be no other.
You know, he was a fabulous little fellow. Jonathan called him Bibbety Bob. I called him Slobby Dobby Bobby, Slobster, Mobster, and anything else within the repertoire of my alliteration and rhyming skills.
Like all Burmese, he loved people and went to everyone. Only at home, though. Unlike his spiritual Mama, Haidee, he was no neighbourhood charmer. He would avoid human contact when out. His preferred contact, much to the chagrin of my wallet, was using his fists on other cats.
We’ll remember him for his endless fun and love.
