I wasn’t absolutely sure I wanted Babee. Thoughts of shredded furniture and steaming wet smelly floors did not sell me the idea of acquiring a pet either. Babee began life attached to the garments of a street sex worker down in St Kilda, which is the heart of Melbourne’s Red Light district. As you can imagine, this was not the life for a tiny kitten and her infant twin sister. This particular worker’s signature look was an array of various unkempt kittens, worn like brooches, on her generous bosom. A local woman rescued Babee and her sister from the worker, as she wasn’t able to properly care for herself, let alone two tiny kittens without their mummy.
Babee is nearly all grown up now and she has, tragically, outlived her first mummy, who died earlier this year from a heroin overdose. May she rest now, in peace, and free from her deadly addiction.
Babee lives on. She is adored and pampered and sniffed – yes, deeply and intoxicatingly – every day. She smells so good. My boys are her avid fans and we miss her when she is out traversing the world, living her Babee adventures.