Conundrum Of The Concrete Cat

There is, nearly invisible in our south stumpery, an abiding enigma --the Concrete Cat:

Concrete Cat came from Norma's parents' property, which she and her younger brother have been clearing and tidying. They found it under some ground-cover vegetation but don't remember having seen it before. Norma brought it here. I tried to help determine its origin but could only quote Shakespeare:
   "Lady, you bereft me of all words, only my
     blood speaks to you in my veins, and there
     is confusion in my powers." (Merchant of
     Venice; act 3, scene2).

Still, I cast my mind back over a half century, back when her family accepted me as suitor for their daughter and made me welcome. I  was often invited for meals (I shared an apartment with 3 hungry men and could not rely on our larder). I would have a beer with her father over a game of chess, and later climb the backyard tree with Norma and...nevermind, then play ping pong on an outdoor table with everybody. 

I am familiar with her dad's sculptural caricatures --animals with bulbous bodies, pebbles and marbles for eyes and collars-- and strongly suspect this is his work alone. He taught his kids how to make decorative stepping stones by this method, but those were larger, more substantial. Norma's had pebble peace symbols in them. I am proud to have both in my garden.