Vale Tumbleweed

Tumbleweed, Jod's cat, died last week, on Wednesday night. Jod lost the plot, and Thursday was a day of drama. Good thing I wasn't there, I wasn't at the farm till late, when things had calmed down.

Meredith told me when I met her in the bank, by coincidence, when I went in to cash a cheque, it being payday for everyone, myself included. It was about 3.45pm, I was late for a 3.30 museum meeting, but the bank closes at 4.00 so it had to come first. As always when you are late, the queue moves slowly. Finally it was my turn at the two window counter and the teller was a new bloke who wanted my driver's licence and fumbled around looking for and counting notes. Two people came and went at the adjacent window and I turned to see that the new arrival was none other than Meredith.

Meredith always has a pleasing affect on me when I see her. This is not surprising, we grew up together, as close allies. But not expecting her there in the bank, the pleasant affect was greater than normal. "I have to go to a museum meeting but I'll be at the farm before five. How's things going? No problems?" She'd had been doing a wonderul job holding the fort at the farm and looking after Elvie, who, after a week in hospital having her gall bladder and some stones removed, was home convalescing.

She looked at me, hesitating. "Well, we had a bit of a hiccup. Tumbleweed died. Jod came last night with the cat crook, he was terribly upset. It was having an epileptic fit, we rushed it to Wardie, it had a stroke apparently, he couldn't save it. Jod's been no good today, off the air, cursing, talking suicide. It's been tough. You know how he gets. He's better now, he buried it, he's calmed down."

"Oh shit! Poor Jod. And poor you."

"Yeah. Good thing it was Thursday when there's not much on. He's had Tumbleweed 15 years."

Later, at the farm, she told me Jod had gone out for a smoke. (The landlord, whom he's always fighting with, painted his flat recently and doesn't want him smoking inside) From ouside, he heard the cat start screaming and he rushed in to find it writhing about on the floor. He tried to calm it down, it responded to a degree and started to lick his fingers. He thought it'd be alright, but a short time later it started again, in obvious pain, and Jod, in panicky desperation, drove it to the farm where Meredith was staying looking after Elvie.

It must sound a bit extraordinary for a 58 year old man to be so upset about a cat dying that he's threatening to drive his car into a tree. To understand, you have to understand Jod, his life, and his personality, as we half do, having known him more than five decades, as siblings born two years and four years after him. Jod has always been a tantrum tosser; as a small child, a schoolboy, and I'd say right through adulthood, where he's been prone to alcohol abuse and depression. His response to adversity is a kind of blind rage. I can imagine him in a battle situation either taking out enemy machine gun posts and winning a VC, or being the first one shot. Then, as the adrenalin subsides, the rage dissipates into self pity.

I don't relate this with any ill intent. I have great affection and sympathy for him. He is what he is, in my opinion, because of unfortunate circumstances in his early childhood. We probably all are. I read a book once about parenting titled, "They Fuck You Up." Well worth a read if ever you come across it.

Jod was engaged three times to different girls, but never married, perhaps fortunately as he may not have handled parenthood well. Who would know for sure? I remember he borrowed a suit of mine to wear to his engagement party. When he gave it back it had a big tear in the knee. He'd had a fight with his prospective father-in-law late in the evening after much beer had flowed. He's lived by himself for the last twenty years, after a nine year defacto stint that included much brawling and knife throwing. For most of the nine years he kept a rented bachelor bungalow as a refuge after serious arguments. The lady had a number of children from her earlier marriage, the children often being the spark to the arguments.

After the break-up, and subsequent loss of employment, Jod hit rock bottom. It was his family and the farm that helped him rebuild. Tumbleweed was given to him as a young cat and was a great companion for him after work.

I'm glad to say that he's recovered from the shock well. He told me that he went round to 'Yartz's ex's place on Saturday arvo. She's lost all three of her dogs recently, and talking to her helped him. She invited him around for a few drinks next Saturday night. He declined at first, saying he wouldn't drive home after drinking, so she offered that he could stay in her spare room. Maybe there's romance in the air! Hold on to your seat!