Mishka: an introduction

Mishka came into our lives in mid-1991 after Tiggs the Venerable shuffled off this mortal coil, but hers was a short and unhappy stay. Mum took me down to the Greensborough Cat Protection Society one day where I had the honour of selecting the new cat. Based on looks alone, Mishka would’ve been an easy choice. Smokey grey with silver paws, she was an absolutely stunning cat. Tragically, her early life must have been a cruel and terrible one, as she appeared to live in a constant state of terror.

We gave her a good home, and tried to undo the damage that had so obviously been done, but she only seemed to get worse. Even inside she was constantly on alert, and when she did venture into the outside world, falling leaves would send her bolting for cover. We eventually took her to a vet who told us she was neurotic and beyond help, so the difficult decision was eventually made.

Unfortunately we didn’t get many photos of Mishka. This one was taken during a rare moment of peace while she sat cleaning herself on my parents’ bed.


This was the more familiar sight, and that manic look in her eyes as she struggled to get out of your arms was sadly all too common.