Just before i was born, my mum and dad decided they wanted a cat. When i was just under a year old, the cat had a litter of kittens. I don't know why, but i fell in love with the lil ginger one and i named him Osca after mum and dad decided to keep him as well. The cat grew faster than me so by the time i was 2 i could barely pick him up. Osca was way bigger than most cats, and he wasnt much smaller than our dog Blackey. I have so many memories of Osca but most are in pictures coz i was to small to remember. When i was 4 we moved from Kangaroo Island to Bordertown where we r now. Osca use to fight alot and as he got older he came home with more and more cuts on him. I went to Adelaide for a week and when i came home i went across the road to see the lady who was feeding Osca while we were away. She told me she could hear cats fighting the night before and Osca hadn't come home for a feed yet. A week later he still wasnt home so everytime i went somewhere i would look around the roads just incase he had been run ova. The nxt day me and my brother went outside and kicked the football around 4 a while. It went ova nxt doors fence so i ran ova there to get it. As i opened the gate i found Osca all scratched and curled up in a ball under the tree that he use to sleep in alot. He looked so peaceful but he had been bleeding on his ear and front leg, we thought he must have died in his sleep that night after fighting, he was just too old. Dad carried him ova to our house in a plastic bag and i burried him in the garden bed where he would be remembered 4 eva I miss Osca so much, he was such a nice cat and he had been with me most of my life.