I lost him..I’d gotten to cousin’s place in Gwendolin..he’d scored himself a Great Dane puppy..type of pooch that could look at you in the face from your eye level. Hoo boy..I was carting Black Megs in, and we got a welcome from..whateverhername was…ah, Cleo. Black Megs wasn’t all that keen to be eaten..he took off, the girl loping along behind for a sniff. Up the nearest tree, and stayed there. Wouldn’t come down for anyone. I saw the little sod heading for a heap of..dead trees etc..nah, still didn’t like his dad. Come sunday arvo..nowhere to be seen..gee! In Hobart 3 or 4 weeks later, the next doors lot got a new kitty..looked suspiciously like Black Megs..didn’t want to know me at any rate. And the landlord had taken away the 44.
So..that was the end of the black kitties for me at any rate. As a kid, though, we had a few putty meiows here and there….Dad..no, dogs are for farm work. Pet dogs eat you out of house and home, and they don’t fetch the sheep up or do anything useful..