Dougal my beloved brother was once a city cat. He was witty he had charm and most of all he was able to enchant all those he met. Once under his spell people would forget their petty peccadilloes and feel richer for having met him. The family then moved to THE COUNTRY...Dum dum dah...There was fear and trepidation amongst the family folk that Dougal may not like it. He might miss the gay repartee of the city life. The duff duff of techno discos and the coming together of high life and scum. He may even run away. But none of this was to be, for Dougal, known far and wide as a lover not a fighter soon found his country paws and was climbing the trees, catching rabbits and rats with the best of them. He shines as a beacon of adaptability that we all tried to emulate. Oh how he inspired us all. I suppose you can all see where this is going but certain things need to be said before reality smacks us in the chops like a menopausal Russian ballet teacher. Thats right. With the drought comes thirsty serpents and we live where there is a veritable smorgasbord. There are Tiger snakes, red bellied black snakes and charming brown snakes. Which ever side of the political snake/cat fence you choose to inhabit the outcome was a tragedy of Greek proportions. A fragile family, over its quota of grief for at least ten years refused to see it coming. But come it did, like a train and a semitrailer all rolled into one straight to our back door. For that is where he managed to drag himself back to after the fact which I cannot even now, six weeks after the event can not, yay will not utter from my paws to you gentle reader. So it goes he is gone. Gone. Dougal has returned to the Great Burmese Blue in the sky and we shall not forget him. He was my big brother and I loved him so.