Posts Tagged ‘love’

Articles

The story of Jack

In Friends,Lessons,Life on June 3, 2012 by kiltforhire Tagged: , , , , ,

I guess this is a simple blog post about love. Love of family and love of a pet.

You see my cat Jack died yesterday. He was at my parents house back in Scotland and my mum phoned to tell me and I’ve been a bit of a mess this weekend because of it.

Never mind me though let me tell you his story…

24 years ago when I was in my teens my mum came home with her green cardigan in her hands.

It turned out my mum spotted something moving in the snow when she was out for a walk one day. A tiny little black and white ball of fluff. It was meowing quietly and lying next to his dead mother. She had been hit by a car and there he was lying next to her.

My mum took off her green cardigan and wrapped the little guy up in it.

She named him Jack after Jack Frost cause he was found in the snow.

We took great care in feeding and caring for him because he was so small. The vet gave us special stuff to give him to help him grow.
Our Springer Spaniel Cara was a loving dog and looked after the wee guy. She was incredibly gentle with him even when he was clawing and biting her.

Jack grew up into a chilled out, pretty lazy cat. He ate, he wandered and he slept. In his youth he would wander but never too far. Sometimes we’d see him a few streets away and occasionally in the field across the main road but he was a survivor. He was never hurt. He never cried and he always came home.

He was smart and gentle and nice to the other neighbour’s cats. Even the nasty ones. Two of the neighbour’s cats would sometimes come in and eat his food. He didn’t care. He didn’t complain. He just lay against the radiator cosy in the heat letting the world go by.

But the thing that made him the happiest was the green cardigan. He would walk around the house with the cardigan in his teeth dragging the rest of it between his legs. He went everywhere with it. He slept on it every night. Carried it around during the day. Ate his food with it in his eyesight.

He loved that green cardigan.

We always felt that he thought it was his mum. It was always with him and I guess it loved him unconditionally. That love plus the way we looked after him probably helped him reach the right old age of 24!

However, a blood clot on his spine meant a visit to the vet to be put down. The vet said the blood clot could happen at any age and apart from that he was in great health. He could have kept going if it wasn’t for that clot.

Poor wee old guy.

I’ll miss him.

Here he is getting his tummy rubbed by my big sister:

Articles

Kevin Costner

In Life on May 28, 2011 by kiltforhire Tagged: , , , ,

This is a pretty mental topic name for a blog post yeah? I mean Kevin Costner isn’t the kind of title you expect to see here on my wee blog right?

But you see Kevin Costner means a lot to me.

My gran was in love with him. Or lust. Or something. A few years after my grandfather died she kinda got obsessed with Costner.

She had posters of him on her wall and she would watch a movie of his every day. Every-time I would pop over to her house she would be sitting watching a Costner movie.

My gran was Susan Pullar but everyone would call her Cissy. No idea why. I think it’s a Glasgow thing. She had a wicked laugh and was a feisty, crazy women at times. She wouldn’t take shit from anyone but was honest, thoughtful, powerful, delightful, fun and adorable. She was honest with a temper a bit like my mum.

But she loved Costner.

She died of an aneurism of the brain in the middle of the street. I hate that. I hate the thought of her just falling in the street without any of us around.

But I love the last memories I have of her when I drove her home a few days before as she complained about my driving and I was winding her up. We laughed in the car that day and she said she would see me soon. I gave her a big kiss on the cheek and said goodbye. She wouldn’t let me get out the car to open her door or anything. She loved being independent.

Somewhere these is a family audio tape of a christmas party with everyone singing different songs. I can still here her beautiful voice.

A few months after she died I went to the cinema to see the new Kevin Costner movie “Message in a Bottle”. It’s quite a sad movie but at the end I broke down. I had to sit in the cinema till the place emptied because I was a blubbering mess.

I had been planning to try to get a signed autograph of Costner for my gran to go next to her poster of him she had on her wall in her living room. I never got it. She would have loved it.

Miss you Cissy (she would hate me calling her that).

Articles

Family…

In Life on April 3, 2011 by kiltforhire Tagged: , , , ,

I live on the other side of the world from my parents but manage to speak to them at lest three times a week. I love my parents not only cause they are my parents but because they are two of the best people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing in the world.

They are very different people but both have incredibly strong core values that they passed down to me and my sister.

My mum is a worrier and very emotional. She has been through a lot in her life but like the majority of Glaswegian women she has a fight in her that astounds me. She would stand up to a giant to fight for what is right.

She was a nurse before she retired. She worked in an elderly ward and looking after the sick. She is wonderfully compassionate but didn’t take any crap when at work. How she coped with people dying around her I’ll never know because I don’t believe it is anything I could ever do.

Mum also has a great sense of humour and an infectious laugh. Whenever I picture her I always see her laughing and smiling. I’m a mummy’s boy at heart simply because she helped mould me. She taught me to stand up for what is right, to believe in people and to look after the little guys who have no fight left in them. She would have made an amazing politician. I love talking to her on the phone and hopefully this week she actually buys a computer so I can video call her!

Oh one last thing about my mum she calls Jesus the first socialist. Which I think is pretty damned cool. I’m an atheist but I like the thought of some guy going around 2,000 years ago just trying to make people more equal.

My dad is something else. He’s my humour. My wit. My charisma. He taught me the craft of telling a good story and gave me a huge part of my personality.

I should point out that I have about a tenth of my dad’s charisma. He has so many friends that I lose count. He tells stories that can last for an hour and have everyone in the pub putting their beer aside just to hear the tale.

He’s an engineer to trade. Spent his life fixing trains for British Rail before being made redundant and then worked for a number of different firms including Weir Pumps.

Everytime we would walk through Glasgow people would stop and shout “Bert’ and have a wee blether to him before heading off. His sense of humour is brilliant and terrible at the same time. One of the best jokes he ever told me is this:

“Two zombies eating a clown and one turns to the other and says ‘does he taste funny?'” Brilliant!

He played football (soccer) all his life up until about three years ago (he’s 65 now) and was a superb player. Again I have little of his talent which is a shame.

My parents met when my dad was an apprentice at British Rail and my grandfather met him and introduced him to my mother. They married at 21.

I love them both to bits and couldn’t wish for better people in my life. They have supported every single decision I have ever made and always give me wonderful advice – even though I don’t always take it.

There are other family members that I want to talk about but I’m going to leave that for another blog post…