Last Post…

Last Post…

Content warning: If you do not like cats, or if soppy stories give you shingles – avoid this one…

I sneak through the long grass, tummy to the ground moving slowly, slowly, just like a cat. In the very early morning while its still dark, small mice come out, a few insects hop about avoiding early birds and I stalk them. Practicing being a cat.
I’m startled by a noise, I jump, dash away, a squeal of brakes, a blinding light, a flash of pain. I roll over, run some more. I catch my breath near our gate. I’m a little disorientated. Is this our gate?
I have one thought in my mind: I need to get home. I need to get to mum. And not my cat mum, mind you…no, she died at the end of my first life.
Only one of my eyes had opened when a snake slithered into our little cozy nest. A Mozambican Spitting Cobra mum has since told many people. Mrs Raven, my cat mum stood her ground to protect us and the cobra spat, a long spray of burny poison. I happened to be behind Mrs Raven and I was obviously blinking because I didn’t get any on me. My two brothers didn’t fare as well, I’m afraid. The snake struck at Mrs Raven although she puffed herself up and tried to look twice her size.
The end of my second life was when my mum arrived. I know I have laughed at the silly things she says, but now, catching my breath in the flowerbed outside the gate, I long for that “Oh man…look at this poor little thing…”

It had been nearly a week since the snake incident, I couldn’t swallow, I was only dimly aware of my surroundings when mum picked me up. I stank of the fish people had tried to feed me and my head plopped over her hand. She didn’t mess about with unpacking the car, or making coffee (which I later discovered is a prerequisite to our continued existence!) She took a dropper and plopped one exquisite drop of milk into my mouth. I can’t describe the feeling – it was oh…liqueur chocolate over coffee, or a quadruple malt whiskey to the drying out soak, or…perhaps water to a man in the desert.
Anyway, I revived pretty quickly and began to hear some of the “Frankie-isms” I so often laughed at in the future.
“Oh man…” said Frankie. “You pong…” and “Yisslike, this little guy is lucky to be alive…”
Although a cat tongue is nothing like a toothbrush, I got “washed” as often as mum thought I needed it, she taught me to lap by stuffing my nose into the milk bowl. She also taught me other more embarrassing things in the sand box.
And then…she crushed up a cat nibble…called WHISKERS – and to coin mum’s phrase “Oh Man…” Cat heaven. It was the beginning of my addiction. It was the ‘gateway.’ I HAD to have Whiskers and I had to have only the variety that comes in the blue bag. I remember once, not long ago, none of the shops in Bulawayo stocked it – I nearly went out of my tiny mind.
Mum called me Twinkle-toes because of my cute white feet and she had many endearing versions…Tweeknee, Twinks or Twee. Some times Eee. Or Eee-ow even Eee-knee. I’ll leave working them out to you…

And everywhere that Frankie went, I was sure to go…the first time I went in the car, I thought life number nine had arrived prematurely. Although I was held in the cupped hands of Frank, it didn’t help. I felt quite queezie.
Like all humans, I developed a fascination with water. And it’s everywhere…we humans drink it…



we bath in it, we watch our fish swim slowly round and round the pond in it and we umm deposit in it and here is the end of life number three…
I jumped onto the loo seat to see if I too could use this instead of the smelly sand, slipped on the smooth plastic and plop…


All mum’s have an instinctive knowledge of where their babies are, and mine was no different. Thud thud thud, she runs into the bathroom…
“Oh man..Twee…you narhna. Come on here, silly billy. Whatshathinkyadoing, man?” On and on she soothed while rubbing me in a towel. She laughed at how much like a drowned rat I looked and then blew a hair dryer at me.
She went off and bought cat-litter crystals. “Now these have deodorant, Eee-ow,” she said. So you won’t mind “going” in them OK? And she was right…but that didn’t stop my fascination with water. I too wanted to bath and I hated the way she wouldn’t let me shower, and I hate her loud laugh when I shake my head from the spots landing on me when she opens the shower door…
I need to give you a little background here – we live in two places. In Bulawayo in a house in Suburbs and although I often go with mum places, I knew how to get back to this house, cos here I have roamed since I could jump out of the bed room window.

Park Road

The other place is a house far, far away over a very bumpy road. In order not to repeat the incident with the snake, I remained inside Frankie’s bedroom. I have no need to be anywhere else – I have food, company, water, bed…loo…

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although when mum is about with her camera, I have been known to venture out…

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It was in town I met with life number five… or was it six?. I was walking along the top of the neighbors wall, and NO I was NOT teasing the dog…how was I to know that some clot had put a drum near the roof. How could I know the dog was a staffie cross baboon? Suddenly I was met with huge snapping white teeth drawn back in a most unattractive manner. Nothing like Nandi and her cute pink tongue and “lickie lickie” as mum says…I knew standing my ground and puffing myself up was not going to work, just as it didn’t work for Mrs Raven. I was forced to jump down an ignominious eight feet leaving the slavering beast, both paws over the wall for Nandi to reprimand. I heard her tell him that he had better watch his step, that his territory didn’t even end on the wall, only half the wall, that if he even thought of jumping down she would make mince meat of him. She went on, worse than Frankie, telling him off. Of course Nandi is old and her teeth only half size (I should know) and he is a very young staffie cross. But he hesitated long enough for me to jump into the bedroom window, find Frank’s head and knead… guaranteed to force him out of bed and give me some Whiskers…

You know there is nothing better than the life of a human…I have a wonderful bed…so comfy and I’m not often disturbed, and if I am…I can give a hint, just as easily as the next guy…

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Like any modern human, I blog. It began with a simple post by another cat living in the UK. “Silly balinkie…” likes to live in a car park – when Frankie read that one out to me, I laughed. Why did he live in a carpark – its cold and wet. (I’m afraid, I can’t read yet…Ive tried, and I’m sure many of you have seen some of my typing efforts: *+-6///fhfj…) so Frankie writes my posts. And I’m quite famous.

The end of my next life was boring and although pretty frightening involved the car and me sleeping on the wheel. I’d have been dead meat if it weren’t for Frankie and her incessant talking…she turned on the car, put it into gear, rolled ever so slightly, realised she had forgotten something, jacked up the handbrake…it gave me enough time to “bullet” off that wheel and to the safety of “Burronks” or this guy…who insists I’m a cat even when faced with overwhelming evidence to the contrary…He loves me, cleans my coat and is always going on and on about how I must not go out of the yard…

Another time, in the car, I went to Frankie’s feet for the cold rush of the air-conditioner down there, and she put her foot on the clutch!!!! It’s attached to a long bar, kinda like a French Guillotine…Eeeuw, I only just got my head out from under that thing in time…
This narrative would not be complete if I didn’t describe, or at least post some pics of another milestone. I got “fixed” at the SPCA and it was terrifying, from start to finish. The smells and the indignity of being locked in a cage are indescribable, but as I wrote on my blog…”It had to be done..” I have no wish to ruin my wonderful figure, pictured below…

It is our gate. I creep in, slink to the woodpile I use for day time suntanning, curl up trying to ignore the pain. I wait for that “Twee. Where are you Eee… Come on Knee knee”
I can’t move. I put my head down again. I’ll try to move “just now.”
Noises. The world is waking up…mum. Her hand stroking me, picking me up.
“Oh Twee. What is this?” She touches the wound on my side.
“She is not purring, Frank,” says mum. “I’m not happy about this. This is a funny wound on her side…I’m taking her to the vet…”

The car…those horrible antiseptic smells I remember, but mum is here…she is talking to the vet..he tells her he will have a look, that he has it all under control. She faffs about the cage, explains that I don’t like it in the cage with the smells of hospital all around, and dogs barking. He shoo’s her out, slips the needle in….ah, relief…this is better than Whiskers.

The world goes all soft and wavy around the edges…I floated away, far away to cloud number nine…

Frankie – there are a stack of happy animals here with your surname you know – I reconnected with Tara, (who until last week lived on the farm.) Also a horrid, pretentious cat called Scar and a beautiful grey horse. But they all need to get in line, cos I’m still tops…

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I’m glad mum has moved on…

The new dog is Rufus…



And the kittens are Rianna and Pink…

And mum – tell the world I can no longer be found here…I am at double u double u double u dot gone-to-cat-heaven dot com


Please have a look at Frankie’s books. I sat right near her most of the time when she wrote Silk Threads and it’s good…

Click here, to download the Amazon version of Silk Threads

Click here to download A Pale

A Pale

Please post comments on the books here on her blog, or at Amazon.

You can email her at:

She gets such a kick out of fan mail you have no idea so please don’t hesitate to contact her.

Silk Threads is available on Smashwords…if you are into BDSM and more explicit scenes, please download a copy of Silk Threads  here:

Silk Threads

And a copy of Jack and Jill here

Jack and Jill a short story

Please leave a comment on Smashwords

12 responses »

  1. All your precious animals who you loved dearly, are joined together now, and are in heaven. They are looking down on you with love. They have sent new animals to fill up your life, because they know the ” new ones ” will receive so much love from you,
    And yes life does go on, now and then you will be reminded that they are still with you.Could be by a sound, a smell that floats by, and even a touch. xxx

    • Thanks – writing about them certainly helps, so do the photographs. And I have stacks. In some ways I’m glad Twinks made it back here – imagine, I could still be sitting here wondering what happened to her, or worrying I could have made a better effort looking for her. Even with all the heartache, I can’t imagine a life without animals…

  2. Cleverly put, Frankie. I thoroughly enjoyed it. You have a unique style – and a great understanding of animals.

  3. Awww – loved the 9 lives story. And you have Rhianna & Pink to keep you company now. I do like Twinkle-Toes ‘ new blog site! My cat Chocolat occasionally does a bit of blogging.

    • Oh yes???Ive not seen any posts by Chocolat..Ill look out. Twinks started when I read out a blog of a cat in the UK who lives in a parking garage. Twinks really couldn’t see the point of that. I mean, why live outside when all the good things in life are in the house – but I suppose at least the street wise guy wouldn’t have been hit by a car…The blogsite idea came from the vet. When I told him I had no idea how to tell Twinks fans…he suggested that url!

    • Thanks – Ive got so many lovely pics of her…the thing I still miss is that silly little gallop she had to the bed – it started cos she didn’t like the fleas getting on her – but then cos it was so endearing…it became a habit with her and she always got attention!

  4. Pingback: Oliver & Nubia: Happy #TRT – Tummy Rub Tuesday Latest photos + ongoing challenge! (Week 11) | Katzenworld

  5. Pingback: Oliver & Nubia: Happy #TRT – Tummy Rub Tuesday Latest photos + ongoing challenge! (Week 12) | Katzenworld

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