In the late 1990s, I faced a predicament when my housemate kindly suggested I could stay, but my cat, Prince, could not. Prince, a long-legged tabby, was at odds with Stanley, my housemate’s smaller cat. As Prince aimed to assert his territory, he chose the new carpet as his battlefield, leading to an unpleasant smell permeating our home. Consequently, I relocated with Prince to a final share house before purchasing my own home in Katoomba, in the Blue Mountains, about 25 years ago—a time when it was feasible for a single woman with limited funds to buy a house.
At that time, I commuted to Sydney for work, returning home late and waking up early, which left me drained despite achieving my goal. Instead of seeking local employment, I opted for online dating, which seemed more appealing. This decision led me to Steve, a national parks ranger from Bathurst, whom I met in a Katoomba café. Our first meeting, back in 2002, was discreet due to the lingering stigma around online dating.
I found Steve’s profile refreshing, contrasting the usual beach-going clichés. Our second date involved a bushwalk, where I admired his well-toned calves. However, while I showcased the local birdlife from my back porch, Steve was wary of the fire hazards surrounding my house. Soon after our meeting, a wildfire encroached upon the area, prompting me to prepare for evacuation. At a critical moment, Steve arrived in uniform, having bypassed roadblocks to help. He wasn’t just a date; he was my own personal fireman, and thanks to his efforts, I remained safe.
A few weeks later, he returned to assist with my chickens that had developed scaly leg mite. I was impressed by his practical skills and kindness. Shortly after, I moved in with Steve, and together we navigated life, filled with adventures and his work as a ranger, even encountering unexpected wildlife incidents. I found employment at the local newspaper and lectured in journalism, while we explored Australia and beyond.
In 2010, I discovered I had the BRCA1 gene mutation, leading to preventative surgeries. I faced ovarian cancer in 2014, entering an 8.5-year remission before a recurrence in 2023. Through these challenges, Steve’s unwavering support reminded me of that early moment when he tenderly treated a distressed chicken with Vaseline.
As for Prince, he passed away from kidney failure shortly after I moved to Bathurst. Despite his troublesome nature, I owe a debt of gratitude to him for guiding me to a new chapter in my life.