One of my all-time favorite cats was a Lilac Burmese called Spike. He was quite a mischief maker with a wonderful sense of humour. He was not terribly bright but was extremely affectionate. Over the years he landed himself into many a tight spot.
The old devil lived through two snake attacks, one catnapping, having his nose torn to shreds by a feral female cat - required nine stitches (No-one ever let him live that one down. Fancy being beaten up by a GIRL!), he had micro-surgery on his left eye - due to his third eyelid being badly damaged after an argument with a wicker basket -all at great expense to the management!
During one of the snake attacks he was bitten nine times on the nose. But as I mentioned, Spike was not particularly bright. Luckily for him it was a green tree snake and not a deadly brown snake. All he received was a darn sore nose for a couple of days. Not learning his lesson from his previous encounter, he took on another snake. This time he was not so lucky as it was a poisonous one. And you guessed it! It was New Year's Day and a vet could not be found anywhere. He was ill for a few days and then made a full recovery. To my knowledge that was his last adventure with a snake.
One day I noticed Spike struggling through our horse paddock, trying to drag something home which looked pretty big and ugly. I was quite stunned to find he had dragged home a two kilogram bag of frozen chicken pieces! As we live in the country our neighbors are not particularly close to us. When I checked with them no-one knew a thing about the bag of chicken pieces. We are still scratching our heads about that one! Guess someone went hungry that night?
Another day my son and I jumped in our four wheel drive and headed up the road to the local shops. I had just dropped the car into top gear when I noticed a little lilac paw waving at me through the slightly opened window. He was on roof. My immediate reaction was to hit the brakes - poor Spike. He flew merrily through the air until the bonnet broke his fall, then bounced off onto the bitumen road, right in front of an oncoming car. He ducked and weaved, and missed being ran over by a whisker. He just sat on the other side of the road looking daggers at me. Not a hair was out of place. He happily jumped in the car so we could drive him back home. Mind you, I needed a quick hit of medicinal brandy after that accident!
The dear old fellow was not so fortunate with his next encounter with a car. He never came home one night and the next morning we found his crumpled little body by the roadside. He is deeply missed by the family and I doubt we will ever see his like again.
Submitted by Sharon
May 30, 1999
