Me and My CatZ

When I left my parents’ house to set up a home of my own, there was something missing.  We’d had a dog as by brother and I grew up, but when he sadly passed away, our mother said ‘No more animals!’ but I knew that in my house, that would not be the case.

As a working man, it would not have been fair to keep a dog locked up on his own all day, but a cat with a cat-flap, bowl of water and some biscuits?  That would fit into my lifestyle with ease! 

So Kool-puss came to live with me.  A small black and white ‘Tom’ kitten with a friendly disposition.  Kool was soon joined by Cleo-puss, a tortoise-shell ‘Queen’ who came from The Cats Protection League.  Her mother was a stray who slipped through a kindly lady’s cat-flap and promptly deposited eight kittens on her sofa!

Kool and Cleo lived together, firstly with me, then my parents, but sadly did not reach great ages.  Both had very comfortable lives, never wanting for food, love or attention.

After a few years living with me, I had to work abroad, and so Kool and Cleo went to live with my parents, my mother reluctantly agreeing to ‘mind’ them while I was away.  Upon my return a year later, my brother took me to one side and said ‘you weren’t thinking of asking for your CatZ back, were you?’ 

The bond of friendship between Kool and my Dad, and Cleo with my Mum, had become so strong I didn’t have the heart to ask!  My parent’s doted on them!  And so I thought it best to leave things as they were.  But it wasn’t long before another Cat strayed into my life!

I was living in a shared house and one of my housemates bought a kitten.  He was a small tabby and they gave him some silly name, but I just called him Puss-puss.  He was a happy little chap, very friendly, and as he grew he began to play outside.  Within a few weeks he’d found a friend.  Another Tabby.  She’d been spayed so obviously she was someone’s pet.  They played as kittens do; fighting and rolling around, much to the delight of everyone in the house.  A few weeks later there was a knock at the door. It was the man who’d come to read the gas meter and the first thing he said to me as I opened the door was ‘Do you know three cats have just run into your house?’  They were so fast I had hardly noticed them.  But three of them?  They’d found another friend.  This kitten was so small, she really shouldn’t have been outside.  So we had our cat, Puss-puss as everyone now called him, The ‘Other-Cat’ from down the road, and Little Puss as we nicknamed her.

Now here comes the sad bit!

One afternoon there was a knock at the door.  A neighbour came to tell me that a cat had been killed on the busy road near by and wondered if it was ours.  My heart sank!  She showed me where it lay and I could see it was ‘The Other-Cat’.  I fetched a cardboard box and put here in it, covered  her with a towel and took her home.  I then started knocking on peoples doors asking if they had a cat and eventually, a gentleman said he did have a cat but he hadn’t seen it that afternoon.  I gave him the sad news that I might have his at and invited him round to identify it.  It was his cat.  I offered him my condolences and he took her away.  So now we had two cats; Puss-puss and Little Puss.

Two weeks later, the gentleman who had retrieved his dead cat from me knocked on our door and said ‘I’m afraid I have to give you the same bad news’.  Again ,my heart sank.  It was Puss-Puss!  H’d been hit on the road in much the same place as The Other-Cat, and had been taken to a local vet whom I immediately called in the hope he was ok.  Alas, there was nothing to be done.  I was told not to come and collect him as he was a mess; just remember him as he was.

So now there was just Little Puss left.  From that point on, she moved in with us, more particularly, with me, and we were together for fourteen years!