Animals have always been a big part of my family and throughout my childhood a succession of cats, dogs and other animals filled our home. We loved them all, and my father was particularly close to our cat Lucy, the last pet in our household before his death.
Lucy was 18.5 years old when she died, and in the last years of her life was frequently referred to as the geriatric attack cat. When our dog Kiera had died aged 15 a few years previously, Lucy took over her guard dog duties, a task she clearly took very seriously. Many was the time I looked out our back windows to see Dad walking around his garden, his faithful hound … err cat … at his heels. As if she understood his failing eyesight, she was always about a metre behind, never in front, never under his feet. And woe betide any stranger who came near Dad while Lucy was on guard.
I happened to be home the day an electricity meter reader came to the house. Dad was asleep on his couch on the front verandah, his cat at his side. Inside the house I heard a strange voice yell and hurried out, to find the meter man retreated off the veranda, Lucy with tail like a bottle brush squarely between him and HER DADDY, and Dad still blissfully asleep.
Standing on the stones in our driveway, blood trickling down his arm, the man told me what had happened. As he entered the gate and approached the verandah, Lucy woke, sat up and hissed. When he kept coming she jumped off the couch, fluffed herself up and started to growl. When he stepped onto the veranda, she flew him, biting and clawing. The man quickly retreated, and that's when I came out. There Lucy stayed, firmly between this stranger and Dad, determined he was not getting any nearer.
In the end I had to hold her while the man edged past, quickly read the meter, and retreated again. "I’m wary of the dogs," he told me, "but I’ve never been attacked by a cat before!" Fortunately he saw the funny side, as she had drawn blood and I had visions of her being taken away in kitty sized handcuffs!
Over the next few weeks I relayed the story of the geriatric attack cat several times, and was quite taken aback by the number of other visitors who responded that Lucy had warned them off as well. Friends, our gardener, delivery people, the lady from the chemist delivering Dad's medicines - everyone commented to me that Dad often never woke up as they went about their business, but that cat watched every move they made! Lucy passed away the day Dad went into hospital, her work done.
A remarkable animal indeed.
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