All posts tagged Jamima

Hot off the Press – 5th June, 2017

Published June 5, 2017 by helentastic67

Hot off the press 1

Hot off the Press!

Well, another busy week under the belt. It’s a zero for comics read this week. One day last week I actually walked home down my street in the dark. It’s not advisable as seeing in the dark with half the eyesight is not great! It’s getting dark by 5.30 now it’s winter!

Walking in dark

Thursday, I had a nice country adventure with the brain injury group I’m part of. We went to Moe, a part of Victoria that seemed to get on the map (so to speak) 20 years ago for all the wrong reasons. I was pre-empting my adventure with the description of Moe as the place Bogans are from. I have a full-length post to best describe what a bogan is. You will just have to wait. It’s not great!


Often when I get together with this group of people, there are a few stand out favourites I love to spend time with and rarely get a chance to. I do love to deliver one guy my standard greeting. I did so while standing speaking to a nice mum who had bought her son along. Said son had developed his ABI from heatstroke while working in Queensland on a building site. He was wheelchair bound and it took 7 years to get Workers Compensation to cover his injury. But without batting an eye, I delivered my colleague my customary “Shut the fuck up!” And kept my conversation with the mum going. She was actually amused. Thankfully. It’s my thing, so don’t judge me. A meeting doesn’t feel complete if I don’t get to deliver these immortal words to this guy.

One of my other peeps, a woman called Anne (she won’t mind) gave her friend a smack in the moosh (mouth) during a drawing exercise and when prompted to explain her sudden outburst, she smartly retorted with “You had it coming Bitch!”

Fore-went my Saturday night single girl date night (watching a film) to do serious catch up on TV shows. I’m so far behind. Nothing super noteworthy…….. I’m currently catching up on real TV I’ve recorded in the past week. A great show from a series called “You can’t ask me that!” Where each week they cover a different topic, have people come in and answer a series of questions by anonymous people online. Unless you have a VPN you can set to Australia you won’t be able to access it. Sadly, this episode is on Centenials. Like some thought provoking shows this series will make you laugh and cry. Like the episode a few weeks back on the topic suicide.

You can't ask me that

I quit Physiotherapy last week deciding I had been crippled enough and rather didn’t appreciate being told my left thigh muscles weren’t as good as I thought! Way to make friends and influence people: Not! Nobody loves being criticised least of all me!

Quitting Physio

Brief visit Wednesday saw me visit the cat, Bella/Killer (depends who you ask) and I got another good pat. Keeping the need to visit Lost Dogs Home or pet shops at bay. No house hunting this week, it’s really slowed down with winter and having seen the other limited options.

Pet shop

Lastly, Jamima’s couch has finally gone out for hard rubbish collection. I kept it for 3(?) years taking up prime real estate in my lounge so she would not lose her favourite hiding place. Her safe place when the vacuum cleaner came out, children, fast cars down the driveway, thunder, noisy drilling or roadworks. You know the stuff. Jamima would find her way under the couch and into a whole in the lining underneath and settle in to be both cocooned and hammocked inside its protective hidey hole. Stinking hot weather or freezing cold it was her favourite for 16 years. Many an argument was being had with my mum as to when it was time to get rid of it and now it is gone.

Jamimias couch

The search for a new coffee carafe proved unsuccessful. A new coffee pot is imminent. Had to resort to plunger coffee.

coffee carafe

Now, it’s after 2am Monday morning. I’m sending this now after time out. Have made some additions. And likely no time tomorrow before I head out to my first appointment.

Lastly, this is a picture for the Rumpsters fur-mum and June Buggie. Both recently departed.

RumpsterIn Memory

And now for another week!

Jamima – The Human Cat 2

Published March 11, 2017 by helentastic67

Jamima the Human Cat

10th March 2017

Ms Noelle reminded me re-entry that cockroaches are not known to be south of the NSW (New a South Wales) border.

I’ve had 3 in the last month and other friends tell me of the plague they have housed. Unwillingly, but all the same.
The first cocky, I sprayed, grabbed with a tissue and flushed. What? Do you not do that? Trust me, it was gone and not coming back. That was the important part, the second cocky, Jamima caught and ate. Obviously. Thankfully I hadn’t sprayed it.


Last week, I invested in a cockroach killer. I couldn’t get or afford cockroach bombs since I already had an unwell fur-child. But before I had a nuance to put out the baits or the tape or the traps, or whatever the hell I had purchased. I saw another huge cockroach.

I don’t think this was how the product was intended to be used but it was certainly effective all the same.
Farewell my lovely…

Hope you all have a lovely weekend. I’ll be trying to keep busy while missing Meimi.

Jamima 2

Jamima – The Human Cat

Published March 10, 2017 by helentastic67

Jamima face

9th March 2017

So, my apologies if I share some stuff about Jamima patch the pirate cat puddle duck. Seems important for me to share it now. Firstly, Jamima came by this name over time. She came home with her first and last names. Jamima is a well-known doll from the ABC children’s show or children called Playschool.

Puddleduck happened because she wasn’t very kitty litter tray literate. Clearly, I took care of that, mostly.

Over her left eye, Jamima has an interesting patch motley colour. So, that and the fact she loved to sit on my shoulder when she was younger and she so wanted to be close while I did the dishes after work. I would put her on my shoulder while I did it. When housemate ‘B’ came home he would come over and offer her his shoulder, B being taller she happily moved on.

I’ll save some good stories for when I’m ready to reminisce. For about 5-6 years now, every Friday I would finish my shopping adventures with my carers at my local shopping complex by visiting the pet shop. Kitten season of course was heaven but the rest of the year they usually had a cat or two from a shelter to be rehomed. They even have interesting names and a little profile. The pet shop often had bunny rabbits, guinea pigs, fish, I think you get the idea.

Jamima eating

I was a familiar face on a Friday and the staff knew I could be trusted to give a cat a friendly tickle and they also were aware I had a fur-baby at home. Early visits to the pet shop I humoured my carers who couldn’t understand my wanting to visit by telling them, it’s fine! I’ll just go home and act like I haven’t cheated on my cat.

The staff at the pet shop also were made aware that there would come a day when I came in very red-faced and sad and would be prepared to take home any furry ‘thing’ that they had at the time. That pet shop relocated about 6 months ago, not far but I no longer get to visit. Possible a good thing.

Jamima 5

The decision to let Jamima go to heaven in peace was easy when it came down to, if she was happy, if she was coping and if she could go on or was she distressed or in pain. It was not to make life easier for me to deal with her passing.

The vet was lovely, compassionate and empathetic in all the right amounts. She let me know I was the right person to make the decision for when was time and she told me many people wait too long. She kept offering me time at every stage of the process and that I could have longer if I needed. I admit and confess I was a complete mess from the moment I walked in. But tissue boxes appeared both at reception and in the procedure room. I was asked if I had done this before and I said no but I intended to be there.

The procedure went as expected, and I was no sadder than I expected. I also didn’t change my mind which I gather the vet thought I might do considering how miserable I was. Anyway, the procedure was efficient and painless, all things considered.
I left the room ahead of the vet and my last look back, I watched the vet flip part of the towel she lay on over her body. Her head was turned to the side and her ears were visible……. as I’ve seen her so many times before.

The tenderness from the vet was beautiful. I might write her a card at some point to thank her. Jamima has been left there for short term storage until mum is down next. As I think I mentioned.

Arriving home, I got busy collecting her food bowls and water containers so I wouldn’t be constantly reminded of her absence. I’m yet to move her scratching post, toys and sleeping cube. I have collected all her polar fleece sleeping blankets and the covers that were to discourage her from scratching the couch. The first night was really strange, habits of moving my glass from my couch armrest a foreign action of neglect. But it seems today, Jamima was here. Or winking down at me. She kept me busy today washing bed linen and organising the carpet to be dry cleaned. As she had obviously left some smelly patches conveniently in each room.

That’s my girl.

So many places I expect her to be. I leave doors wedged open and others closed purposely to cater to her having been here. Yet she is not. It might be a good thing I’m to be moving to a new space I’m not reminded of her absence. There is my old couch I’ve moved more times than you could imagine, in the last two years that lives in front of my heater in the lounge. It’s on wheels but I couldn’t part with it while Jamima was still with me as she loved to go under it and hammock herself inside the lining underneath. I found her there only Monday morning, me lying flat on the floor, hand underneath patting her head and ears. Her only time out of her hiding place, enough to get constant pats, her purring music to my ears.
I don’t know when I’ll welcome my next fur-child into. My home and my heart to nestle in beside the hole Jamima has carved out and will remain always but it will be when the time is right.

Until then I probably should avoid pet shops. I’ll keep you updated and you will be the first to know. Thanking you all for your understanding and support.

And many thanks to my friend Boo who chauffeured us to and from the vets and for the hugs and back-rubs. He himself having received horrible news that morning as a friend had chosen to end his own life.

I realise this might be hard to hear and it’s not a point I intended to make in this post but it is relevant because my Boo’s horrible news didn’t stop him from being there for me. It had been a serious challenge to find someone to help me. So now it is late and time to wind down, make a cuppa T and single task and likely shed a few more tears.

Sweet dreams.

Farewell My Lovely

Published March 9, 2017 by helentastic67



The Life of Jamima, My Human Cat…

8th March 2017

Today I made a decision that would break my heart. It’s been a decision that has upset me for years whenever the future probability has been put to me.

Jamima 5

Every year around late spring Jamima would lose her ‘winter chubbs’ so to speak. Living here for the last 4 years where neighbourhood Toms would come prowling around, this would disturb her. She didn’t seem to know what their howls were about. She had been fixed at the appropriate age and had her ear tattoo to prove it.

I always considered she would have been less anxious and more comfortable if she had been allowed to have kittens first. But I wasn’t allowed as Jamima had been adopted from a household with 3 female cats, 2 Toms and 3 litters of kittens all at once.

Jamima would often be a fussy eater, be very anxious to outside noises for example cars, people, animals being walked past out the front yard or birds fluttering on the last. Prompting me to give her the talk that birds were supposed to intrigue her and make her want to get out.

Jamima and Prawns

Jamima has mostly been an indoor cat only. She has had access to the backyard and thankfully in recent years has been large enough that I could rest easy, she was too big to attempt a break-out and my choice of homes for us always stipulated that the backyard be not only cat-friendly but cat-proof.

Jamima  indoors


The next paragraph is not for the faint-hearted. You have been warned!

When she came home with us, I had read an article in the local paper telling of people who steal cats for ‘fishing’ trips. They slash the back legs and then dangle the cat over the back of the boat. The blood and thrashing drawing fish to the surface and then attracted to the bait. When the fishing trip is over with no use for the cat they are thrown over into the water. The article continued to name suburbs cats were known to go missing from, it included ours. Jamima was therefore deemed an indoor cat only!

Jamima and I have always been very closely bonded. If I was upset she would come to me to comfort me, even if I was in another part of the house and surrounded by others she did not know. She also seemed to bear the brunt of anything she picked up from me. If I was anxious, sad, stressed or if she could tell a move of our home was imminent.

During her life, she lived in 6 homes, including the one she was born in and another move has been pending as I type this. I think she could always tell and it meant she ate less, stressed more and acted a little less at ease.
In recent months, she has picked up a few new quirks. Occasionally, I’ve woken to her sitting on my pillow against my hair. Sometimes right beside my pillow making me feel stalked when opening my eyes.

She would sleep on the bed, sometimes I would wake from a warm peaceful sleep on my back with a warm presence on my lap. I would slowly realise Jamima was curled up there fast asleep and I had no idea how long she had been there.


Such an opportunist.

The last few weeks, she has taken to hiding under the bed. But when I went to bed she would jump up for her pats, ear-rubs and chin and neck scratches and the purring would begin. About a month ago, her weight loss became very obvious. Her hollow-sides continued to include her spine and hip bones being pronounced.

Early visits to the vet included disapproving looks when she was weighed indicating she was overweight and I was a bad parent. Recent cat blogs I’ve read would indicate Jamima was definitely not obese but her obvious weight loss did disturb me and I tried different foods and smaller more consistent meals.
Another blogger has stated chasing her cat around the house trying to fatten it up. Kinda feels like I did the same. Meals in the lounge room, food treats in the kitchen.

Her weight loss continued and my concern grew also. Most of you would wonder why I hadn’t taken her to a vet?

The answer is mostly one thing. The lack of money. When I committed to having a cat I was working and had a consistent and stable income. I had always put off having a pet until I knew I could afford those expenses and responsibilities.

The last 10 years my disability has meant my financial freedom has continued to get more and more restrictive. Particularly when life taught me we should live alone for our peace and sanity.

The last 4 years living at unit 1/111 Jamima and Helen Street. (obviously not the street name) life really was about us and life has been nice, until just recently, Jamima has been hiding more, eating less. Not bothering with tasty saucy treats I’ve left in my bowl especially for tempting her. I knew the time was closer and closer.

Today I woke and didn’t see much of my fur-child. And then I left the house at 12.30pm on my Hell on wheels’ scooter and Jamima was on the window ledge in the study in her sleeping position with her snout down in front of her against the timber. I knew when I left the house I had to make the decision I had been dreading.

I rang my mum to tell her my plans. I had to find someone to help me get her to the vet or the vet to do a house call and who I could ask to store her in a cool-room or such until my mums next visit so she could be taken home and be buried with her brother and sisters from another mother in country Victoria.

I didn’t want to bury her on a property that wasn’t mine for ever and I had previously contemplated my sister’s home but she has 2 dogs and my sister and I don’t always see eye to eye. Shall we say?

So today, when I got home from my acupuncture appointment, where I had lay texting with 8 needles in me, organising and finally managing to find someone to help me get Jamima to the vet. Before I scootered home, I booked the appointment for 5.15pm.

Arriving home, Jamima was still in the window. She didn’t look like she had moved. I called her name and I touched her cat-condo that was under the desk inside the study. She meowed and came out. As soon as she got to the carpet I heard a noise and I knew she was making a patch of urine on the carpet. I was tempted to admonish her…..now, is this where we do that? But really, it was my fault I had left her this long maybe? I easily ushered her into her cat-condo and closed the door. She didn’t seem impressed. I got her some water and opened the door again long enough so I could pour it in.
I couldn’t be dissuaded by guilt or her sweet meows.

She drank and then settled in, my friend arrived and came in to give me a hug and carry the condo out to the car.

Anyway, I think by now you all realise how this story ends.

By 5.30 pm on the 8th of March 2017 Jamima went to sleep and off to heaven on big fluffy clouds. Have been thinking of an appropriate cats’ version of the green dream. You can stay tuned for the upcoming post of the same name I wrote over lunch today when I knew how lonely my home would feel by the end of the day.

I keep looking around expecting to see Jamima in her favourite place. My gravy-laced bowl from dinner that will not be cleaned by her tongue. So many peculiar habits we shared that will never be again.

Jamima and bowl

Here are some pictures that will show you Jamima patch, the pirate cat Puddleduck at her best.
Sadly missed but never forgotten. Sad, so sad.

Jamima 2Jamima 3


Published February 29, 2016 by helentastic67


Meet Jamima ‘Patch the Pirate Cat’ Puddleduck!
So called for my patchy left eye & my pen chance for sitting on shoulders(until Uncle B comes along, his shoulder h helps me get higher)
I’m the mental Healthcare Provider for a Crazy Cat-Lady. Housemates, boyfriends & even Uncle B have come & gone but my Mum keeps up with the Tuesday Tummy Rub’s!

Stay Tuned……….

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