A subscriber asked me to write about my cats, so today and next week’s blogs are all about the cats I have ever owned.
“The Move” (my novel) is a story about cats. Some of the cats featured in it have my previous cat’s characters and traits. If you read this post and then my novel when it is published, you should work our which cat is which.
The first cat I owned was a birthday present. I think it was for my ninth birthday. The cat was a ginger tom and a rescue cat that had previously lived with a red setter dog. He was a friendly cat and kept me company as I lived a bit too far away from school to play with friends when we first had him. I won’t tell you his name as I’m sure I’ve answered those secret questions to do with forgetting your passwords online, asking what the name of your first pet is? So, you will never know his name.
There is a picture or two here, however. My cat’s friend came into the garden frequently to keep him company. One memory I have of my first cat is of him pawing my face first thing in the morning, so I would wake up and feed him. At other times he would meow at my window requesting to come in after spending the night out. Bleary-eyed one day, I got up and opened the window pushing him off the ledge to two floors below. I rushed downstairs, and thankfully, he was all right.
The last time I saw him, he was thin and finding unusual places to sleep like a bag or a washing up bowl. Previous to that, his favourite sleeping place was the airing cupboard. At college, one day, my parents broke it to me on the phone that he had passed away.
My second cat was a tiny kitten called Cecil. He was a rescue cat and was black all over. He didn’t last very long at all, a couple of weeks maybe. He had feline flu and appeared to be in a lot of pain. One night we had to take him to the vet to be put down. It was a sad night. It is so easy to become attached to a cat in such a short space of time. There is no photo of Cecil.
My third cat was called Sam. He was black and white and was what I would call my cat. I had him from being a kitten to being old. He was unusual in that he didn’t like cat food. We had to feed him tin pilchards, but thankfully, he did like cat biscuits. He was like a dog in the sense if you threw a tied up plastic bag. He would go and collect it and bring it back to you so you could throw it again for him. He never did this after we introduced another cat to our household. It makes me think we should never have got another cat.
My fourth cat was called Jessica, and we had her as a kitten. She was a pretty little tortoiseshell and a proper little madam. If you took her off your head when you were trying to sleep, she would keep getting back on. Her purring on your head was very off-putting. Despite Sam not taking well to her initially, you frequently found them cuddled up together sleeping. I believe it was more of Jessica’s doing as Sam, who would probably have been just as happy to spend time away from her.
Jessie had kittens, and it was round about the time my son had his first birthday party. We locked her and her kittens in the pantry, away from little hands. Jessie went missing one day, and she never came back.
Meanwhile, we gained another cat called Dougal. He was a relatives cat who had nowhere for him to live, so we had him. He was a large black cat who was hard to get to love. If you stroked him, he would bite you. One day I remember telling him, this is how you should be. I showed him me petting Sam. After I showed him, he took a swipe at Sam with his paw. One thing I remember about him was that he loved the snow when it snowed one year.
We gained a ginger tabby girl from someone who had to move abroad, and she replaced Jessica. She was called Pixie and was a lovely cuddly cat, my favourite cat up to that point.
We decided one year to go and live in New Zealand, so we had to find a new home for our cats. The vet suggested we put Sam down as he had painful arthritis. It was regrettable to see Sam go as he’d been my cat for so long, and it was hard to stop the tears from flowing. We found a home for our other two cats together. We were surprised at someone wanting to look after Dougal being like he was but were glad both he and Pixie found a home where they could stay together.
Next time I will tell you about the cats we got in New Zealand and Australia.
