RIP Sky the Cat
Dear Sky,Do you remember when you used to live in the greenhouse at Torrington Road?!
Then one beautiful sunny day I left the back door open and walked into the dining room to find you, sitting like a bowling pin, in the kitchen doorway! I gave you corned beef on a willow pattern plate because you looked hungry (and you gave me those big, cute ‘cat eyes’) - that was your first meal with us. When Paul got in from work and I told him you’d been in the house, he said we couldn’t keep you. He said he didn’t like cats. I didn’t like cats either - until I met you.
That night we left the bathroom window ajar; when Paul went downstairs you were asleep on the sofa. I think Paul loved you from that moment.
You never left.
We tried to find out where you’d come from but no one claimed you. It didn’t take long for you to settle in. You spent many hours sitting on our laps purring away, and many more in the sun trap we called the ‘bus shelter’ in the back garden, soaking up the sun. In between munching on biscuits and hiding in boxes, of course.Then we got a new kitten who we called Molly.
We thought you might eat her.
But you didn’t.
You started a ‘love/hate’ relationship which bought us all together as a family. Molly used to try to drink from your nipples because she saw you as her mum, which made us laugh! Sometimes you’d put her in her place - she copied everything you did but she was always much more naughty than you. Sometimes you’d give each other nose rubs, but even when you were fighting you were gentle with her and never used your claws. Because that’s the kind of cat you were.
We didn’t like letting you out in the evening because the area wasn’t very nice so it was for your own protection. We put the expandable wine rack up by the back door to stop you scratching at it. But you decided to wear it as a tutu and whilst we were relaxing on the sofa, the wine rack came hurtling into the living room - with you inside. You weren’t hurt but you did make a horrible noise. We couldn’t stop laughing - you never did go near that wine rack again. Neither did Molly for that matter.Then we moved house.
We thought that all the changes would upset you - after all, you’d been a city kitty for as long as we’d known you and we hadn’t long got Molly who was still settling in with us. Rural country life was going to be very different for you and so we walked you and Molly around on leads for a couple of weeks before we let you out on your own.
When we opened the back door without you on a harness for the first time we both worried that we might not see you again - that you would go running off into the wild.
But you didn’t.
You barely left the boundary of the garden, and you seemed so happy with all the space and peace and quiet and trees… And bats. You never did like catching things - you’re so gentle that if anything moved in your mouth you’d sooner spit it out rather than kill it.
One particular eveing we remember well, we wondered why you wanted to come in so late, then when you FINALLY decided to make an appearance you released a large bat into the living room! I screamed and hid in the office - I don’t mind bats, but it’s not particularly nice when one is flying around your head in a small space. Paul spent a good 20 minutes trying to catch it and finally cornered it in the spare bedroom where he managed to get it into a laundry bin and release it outside.
We got wise to your bat-catching and always checked your mouth before you came in after that to make sure there were no goodies in there for us…
It always surprised us how a cat who didn’t like hunting managed to catch bats, and always released them without damaging their delicate wings.You spent many happy Summer days and evenings guarding the garden in the tree fort or sitting thoughtfully on the patio table, observing quietly and occasionally patroling the grounds to make sure everything was in its place.Then we got chickens.
We thought you would eat them.
But you didn’t.
In fact you couldn’t have cared any less about them, and merely looked on as they clucked around you. Did you even notice them?! You settled in to country life so well - it was like you had always wanted this sort of lifestyle, and we were so happy to be able to give it to you.
I’d even set up a Twitter account for you - you became more popular than me and most of my friends! Your quirky habits and daily-doings touched people’s hearts even though they hadn’t met you. You bought a lot of joy to a lot of people, including my grandparents when they came back from France to stay with us - you hadn’t met them very often but as soon as my nan put her suitcase in the bedroom you would set up camp there! She’d always end up with a suitcase covered in cat hair by the end of the stay :-) You wouldn’t move except for food, which was odd because you’d take yourself off somewhere else whenever anyone else came around, but for some reason you endured my grandparents - even when my nan bought you that nasty French cat food mush with whole PEAS and CARROTS in it! I think it’s because they used to make such a fuss of you that you put up with it all - and because my nan had a particularly comfortable suitcase ;-)Then we rescued Poppy.
We thought you might leave us because we’d got another cat - another YOUNG cat, of all things.
But you didn’t.
The day we bought her home, skinny and sad, we put down some biscuits in the kitchen… You walked in and our hearts were in our mouths. You looked at Molly, looked at Poppy then adopted your usual ‘well, where’s my biscuits’ pose! We gave you lots of strokes and secret ham, which made you even happier :-)
Molly freaked when she saw another cat in the house.
We thought SHE would eat her.
But she didn’t.
In fact, she stopped harassing you and gave you the quiet life you’d always wanted; Molly and Poppy went from arch-enemies to best of friends in just a few days - thanks to the way you’d reacted to Molly initially. She learned a lot from you, and is now passing that on to Poppy who’s also settled in nicely and really seems to be enjoying life here. Poppy really looked up to you - she didn’t know you that well, but she knew you well enough to know that you were older and wiser than she was, and she should give you the space that you deserve, but she certainly enjoyed the odd nose-rub with you!
And then you got sick.You’d been poorly for a couple of weeks before we took you to the vet - you were always coughing up hair balls so we assumed your sickness was due to eating too much grass and whatever else it was you nibbled outside!
But it wasn’t.
It was due to a tumour on your kidney. There was nothing the vet could do.
We were devastated when he told us. The only things that helped were the vet informing us that you were probably older than was first thought and therefore had enjoyed a long, happy life, and the fact that we had 3 weeks to say goodbye - a luxury that a lot of pet owners don’t have.It was a sad 3 weeks. You seemed to get so sick in such a short amount of time, it was awful to see you suffering and struggling every day. You didn’t want to do anything except sleep in your box, (you’ve always had a thing for boxes!), and eat. We gave you lots of cuddles but made sure you had the space that you wanted and needed, too.The end of the three weeks came too quickly. The morning we had to take you to the vet we knew the only option was to let you sleep. I think you knew that, too. It’s so hard to make that decision on your behalf. It’s strange that humans aren’t even allowed to make that decision for themselves yet we are allowed to choose for our beloved pets. I think - we both think - that the decision we made was the one you wanted. When we stood in the surgery, tears streaming down our faces, you never once stopped purring. You were so calm - I feel like I let you down by making such a fuss. When the vet injected you we stroked you and told you how much we loved you. You didn’t flinch once and you looked at me with relieved, happy eyes as your body started to relax, and I felt a huge weight lift - you had been so uncomfortable, to see that one moment of happiness on your face before you left us made me realise that we had given you the painless, dignified send off which you longed-for and deserved. It didn’t make it any easier.The journey home with you was a cruel one. Paul and I didn’t say much to each other but we both cried a lot. When we got home we took you inside so Molly and Poppy could say goodbye to you - we didn’t want them thinking we’d taken you away. Molly stepped on you gently and sniffed your face - she knew what had happened. We put you in the box Paul made for you and we made sure you were wrapped up all cosy. I hope you don’t mind that we took your collar off - I wanted something to remember you by and it symbolises that once again you have your freedom. We put your bowl in with you - Paul remembered to fill it with some biscuits too! We know you love biscuits :-) We buried you in the middle of the garden - as we put you into the ground Molly came and sat next to you to pay her respects - it made me cry again! We wanted to put you in the garden because you loved it here - I hope that’s ok. You’re free to travel wherever you want now. We’ve planted one of the Ash trees we bought from Torrington Road with us next to you, too. It was always the Ash trees you sat under, so now you can have one of your very own.There will never be another cat like you - you were our furry friend, a member of the family, my familiar… And you touched so many lives, from our family, to friends to total strangers - you received some beautiful messages on your Twitter account!
To a lot of people you’re just a cat. But to us you’re a very special friend and always will be. Some people have since said that sad moments like this are the reason they don’t have pets, but to be able to have the honour and pleasure of living with such a unique companion who’s bought us so much happiness, we’d do it all over again at the drop of a hat! The past few days since you’ve gone have been strange - little moments like getting in from work or coming down in the morning without you to greet us makes me think of you and how much I’ll miss you - it’s those little moments that make it hard to adjust. Sometimes I still think I can hear you - I know, that sounds weird! - but in a way it’s comforting and lets me know that in whatever form a part of you is still here with us. And always will be - even if it is just in my head! I do have the excuse that I’m pregnant, after all ;-)We’re really sad that you didn’t get to meet Baby Rawlings, we were looking forward to introducing you to her, but we will share all our memories, photos and videos of you with her and I’m sure the stories will bring her as much happiness as actually living them has for us!
I’m pretty sure you’ve got some lives left and I’m hoping that you’ll come and find us again one day - we’ll always be on the lookout for the next stray kitty! In the meantime enjoy your well deserved rest. THANK YOU so much for choosing us to be your guardians - it’s been an absolute honour - and for being such a wonderful companion and role model to Molly and Poppy.
HuMum, HuMan, MollySocks and Poopy Bum
XXX
Then one beautiful sunny day I left the back door open and walked into the dining room to find you, sitting like a bowling pin, in the kitchen doorway! I gave you corned beef on a willow pattern plate because you looked hungry (and you gave me those big, cute ‘cat eyes’) - that was your first meal with us. When Paul got in from work and I told him you’d been in the house, he said we couldn’t keep you. He said he didn’t like cats. I didn’t like cats either - until I met you.
That night we left the bathroom window ajar; when Paul went downstairs you were asleep on the sofa. I think Paul loved you from that moment.
You never left.
We tried to find out where you’d come from but no one claimed you. It didn’t take long for you to settle in. You spent many hours sitting on our laps purring away, and many more in the sun trap we called the ‘bus shelter’ in the back garden, soaking up the sun. In between munching on biscuits and hiding in boxes, of course.Then we got a new kitten who we called Molly.
We thought you might eat her.
But you didn’t.
You started a ‘love/hate’ relationship which bought us all together as a family. Molly used to try to drink from your nipples because she saw you as her mum, which made us laugh! Sometimes you’d put her in her place - she copied everything you did but she was always much more naughty than you. Sometimes you’d give each other nose rubs, but even when you were fighting you were gentle with her and never used your claws. Because that’s the kind of cat you were.
We didn’t like letting you out in the evening because the area wasn’t very nice so it was for your own protection. We put the expandable wine rack up by the back door to stop you scratching at it. But you decided to wear it as a tutu and whilst we were relaxing on the sofa, the wine rack came hurtling into the living room - with you inside. You weren’t hurt but you did make a horrible noise. We couldn’t stop laughing - you never did go near that wine rack again. Neither did Molly for that matter.Then we moved house.
We thought that all the changes would upset you - after all, you’d been a city kitty for as long as we’d known you and we hadn’t long got Molly who was still settling in with us. Rural country life was going to be very different for you and so we walked you and Molly around on leads for a couple of weeks before we let you out on your own.
When we opened the back door without you on a harness for the first time we both worried that we might not see you again - that you would go running off into the wild.
But you didn’t.
You barely left the boundary of the garden, and you seemed so happy with all the space and peace and quiet and trees… And bats. You never did like catching things - you’re so gentle that if anything moved in your mouth you’d sooner spit it out rather than kill it.
One particular eveing we remember well, we wondered why you wanted to come in so late, then when you FINALLY decided to make an appearance you released a large bat into the living room! I screamed and hid in the office - I don’t mind bats, but it’s not particularly nice when one is flying around your head in a small space. Paul spent a good 20 minutes trying to catch it and finally cornered it in the spare bedroom where he managed to get it into a laundry bin and release it outside.
We got wise to your bat-catching and always checked your mouth before you came in after that to make sure there were no goodies in there for us…
It always surprised us how a cat who didn’t like hunting managed to catch bats, and always released them without damaging their delicate wings.You spent many happy Summer days and evenings guarding the garden in the tree fort or sitting thoughtfully on the patio table, observing quietly and occasionally patroling the grounds to make sure everything was in its place.Then we got chickens.
We thought you would eat them.
But you didn’t.
In fact you couldn’t have cared any less about them, and merely looked on as they clucked around you. Did you even notice them?! You settled in to country life so well - it was like you had always wanted this sort of lifestyle, and we were so happy to be able to give it to you.
I’d even set up a Twitter account for you - you became more popular than me and most of my friends! Your quirky habits and daily-doings touched people’s hearts even though they hadn’t met you. You bought a lot of joy to a lot of people, including my grandparents when they came back from France to stay with us - you hadn’t met them very often but as soon as my nan put her suitcase in the bedroom you would set up camp there! She’d always end up with a suitcase covered in cat hair by the end of the stay :-) You wouldn’t move except for food, which was odd because you’d take yourself off somewhere else whenever anyone else came around, but for some reason you endured my grandparents - even when my nan bought you that nasty French cat food mush with whole PEAS and CARROTS in it! I think it’s because they used to make such a fuss of you that you put up with it all - and because my nan had a particularly comfortable suitcase ;-)Then we rescued Poppy.
We thought you might leave us because we’d got another cat - another YOUNG cat, of all things.
But you didn’t.
The day we bought her home, skinny and sad, we put down some biscuits in the kitchen… You walked in and our hearts were in our mouths. You looked at Molly, looked at Poppy then adopted your usual ‘well, where’s my biscuits’ pose! We gave you lots of strokes and secret ham, which made you even happier :-)
Molly freaked when she saw another cat in the house.
We thought SHE would eat her.
But she didn’t.
In fact, she stopped harassing you and gave you the quiet life you’d always wanted; Molly and Poppy went from arch-enemies to best of friends in just a few days - thanks to the way you’d reacted to Molly initially. She learned a lot from you, and is now passing that on to Poppy who’s also settled in nicely and really seems to be enjoying life here. Poppy really looked up to you - she didn’t know you that well, but she knew you well enough to know that you were older and wiser than she was, and she should give you the space that you deserve, but she certainly enjoyed the odd nose-rub with you!
And then you got sick.You’d been poorly for a couple of weeks before we took you to the vet - you were always coughing up hair balls so we assumed your sickness was due to eating too much grass and whatever else it was you nibbled outside!
But it wasn’t.
It was due to a tumour on your kidney. There was nothing the vet could do.
We were devastated when he told us. The only things that helped were the vet informing us that you were probably older than was first thought and therefore had enjoyed a long, happy life, and the fact that we had 3 weeks to say goodbye - a luxury that a lot of pet owners don’t have.It was a sad 3 weeks. You seemed to get so sick in such a short amount of time, it was awful to see you suffering and struggling every day. You didn’t want to do anything except sleep in your box, (you’ve always had a thing for boxes!), and eat. We gave you lots of cuddles but made sure you had the space that you wanted and needed, too.The end of the three weeks came too quickly. The morning we had to take you to the vet we knew the only option was to let you sleep. I think you knew that, too. It’s so hard to make that decision on your behalf. It’s strange that humans aren’t even allowed to make that decision for themselves yet we are allowed to choose for our beloved pets. I think - we both think - that the decision we made was the one you wanted. When we stood in the surgery, tears streaming down our faces, you never once stopped purring. You were so calm - I feel like I let you down by making such a fuss. When the vet injected you we stroked you and told you how much we loved you. You didn’t flinch once and you looked at me with relieved, happy eyes as your body started to relax, and I felt a huge weight lift - you had been so uncomfortable, to see that one moment of happiness on your face before you left us made me realise that we had given you the painless, dignified send off which you longed-for and deserved. It didn’t make it any easier.The journey home with you was a cruel one. Paul and I didn’t say much to each other but we both cried a lot. When we got home we took you inside so Molly and Poppy could say goodbye to you - we didn’t want them thinking we’d taken you away. Molly stepped on you gently and sniffed your face - she knew what had happened. We put you in the box Paul made for you and we made sure you were wrapped up all cosy. I hope you don’t mind that we took your collar off - I wanted something to remember you by and it symbolises that once again you have your freedom. We put your bowl in with you - Paul remembered to fill it with some biscuits too! We know you love biscuits :-) We buried you in the middle of the garden - as we put you into the ground Molly came and sat next to you to pay her respects - it made me cry again! We wanted to put you in the garden because you loved it here - I hope that’s ok. You’re free to travel wherever you want now. We’ve planted one of the Ash trees we bought from Torrington Road with us next to you, too. It was always the Ash trees you sat under, so now you can have one of your very own.There will never be another cat like you - you were our furry friend, a member of the family, my familiar… And you touched so many lives, from our family, to friends to total strangers - you received some beautiful messages on your Twitter account!
To a lot of people you’re just a cat. But to us you’re a very special friend and always will be. Some people have since said that sad moments like this are the reason they don’t have pets, but to be able to have the honour and pleasure of living with such a unique companion who’s bought us so much happiness, we’d do it all over again at the drop of a hat! The past few days since you’ve gone have been strange - little moments like getting in from work or coming down in the morning without you to greet us makes me think of you and how much I’ll miss you - it’s those little moments that make it hard to adjust. Sometimes I still think I can hear you - I know, that sounds weird! - but in a way it’s comforting and lets me know that in whatever form a part of you is still here with us. And always will be - even if it is just in my head! I do have the excuse that I’m pregnant, after all ;-)We’re really sad that you didn’t get to meet Baby Rawlings, we were looking forward to introducing you to her, but we will share all our memories, photos and videos of you with her and I’m sure the stories will bring her as much happiness as actually living them has for us!
I’m pretty sure you’ve got some lives left and I’m hoping that you’ll come and find us again one day - we’ll always be on the lookout for the next stray kitty! In the meantime enjoy your well deserved rest. THANK YOU so much for choosing us to be your guardians - it’s been an absolute honour - and for being such a wonderful companion and role model to Molly and Poppy.
We love you, SkyPie. We will never forget you. Or that mole on the end of your nose. Sleep well, travel far and we hope one day we will see you again.
HuMum, HuMan, MollySocks and Poopy Bum
XXX
Saying Goodbye to Our Cat Sky
There comes a time when The Good Life goes bad. Today is one of those times. Sky, our longest serving cat, has been diagnosed with some sort of kidney problems. We’re back to the vet in 3 weeks. Unfortunately, serious kidney problems in a cat are incurable, (unless you live in the States where they transplant kidneys into cats, apparently).
She’s been losing weight for months now so we knew that something was wrong. She’s already been to the vet a month or so ago, and was told she was improving but she really has got very skinny the past few weeks. We’ve never known exactly how old she is - she came to live with us in our last house about 6 years ago. She started by sleeping in our greenhouse and slowly, like a ninja cat, made her way up to the house via the garden, and, eventually, Paul went downstairs one morning to find she was asleep on the sofa. She’d been breaking in through the bathroom window - and she hasn’t left since. No one ever claimed her and it seemed that she didn’t have a home to go back to so we adopted her, had her chipped and then moved to our house in the beautiful Elham Valley which we now share with 2 other cats, Molly and Poppy (who we rescued), and a random number of chickens. She’s always been a lazy cat - she lets Molly, our second oldest cat, catch all the mice then claims them as hers when Molly’s bought them in. In reality, she hates anything that’s alive being in her mouth and she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s caught bats before but lets them go without any harm, (in the front room, usually), at all to their delicate wings. She’s never clawed, scratched or bitten anyone and when she tells our other cats off she boxes her with all her claws in - she’d never hurt them. She really is one of a kind. In 3 weeks, however, we have another appointment with the vet. He told us that there is literally nothing they can do, nor anything we could have done, which can or would have helped. It doesn’t stop us feeling helpless, but it gives us a sense of reassurance that she has had a fantastic life with us - much better than she would have had if she’d not moved in when she did. The vet said we have to make the decision to either ignore the problem and let her go on as long as she can, or to go back in 3 weeks, (he’s given her a steroid injection in the meantime), and send her to sleep. We don’t think it’s fair to keep her going - it would be for our own selfish reasons, so we will make the decision to let her sleep. It’s a choice that humans don’t have and it is the very least we can do for such an important member of our family. It makes me more sad to think Baby Rawlings will not get to meet her by just a few months, but it’s not right to see her keep going in the condition she is in. Whilst she doesn’t seem to be in any pain, it’s obvious she’s feeling very low. It’s a hard decision to have to make, and although we knew that we’d have to do it one day, you’re never prepared. As I wipe the tears from my eyes and begin another bout of sobbing, I am reassured by the fact that we are so lucky to have time to say goodbye to our little cat. Not everyone has that luxury, so we will make the most of these last weeks with her and show her how much she is loved and how important she is to us. As we have done every day we have shared with her.
“To Sky,
We love you, Sky the Cat, and you will always be remembered - not only because you were our first cat, but because of your unique and kind personality. No other cat can replace you and the house will never be the same without you. When Baby Rawlings is born we’ll make her laugh with the stories we remember you by - like the time you got stuck in the expandable wine rack and ran around the living room wearing a wine rack tutu. You will be at peace and without suffering, and you will always, always be loved and your memory cherished. Yes, we promise to give you extra biscuits for the next few weeks. Yes, I will let you have a look in the towel cupboard. Molly and Poppy promise to behave too.
Lots of love and cat hugs and snuggles,
Mummy and Daddy (HuMan and HuLady)
XXX”
She’s been losing weight for months now so we knew that something was wrong. She’s already been to the vet a month or so ago, and was told she was improving but she really has got very skinny the past few weeks. We’ve never known exactly how old she is - she came to live with us in our last house about 6 years ago. She started by sleeping in our greenhouse and slowly, like a ninja cat, made her way up to the house via the garden, and, eventually, Paul went downstairs one morning to find she was asleep on the sofa. She’d been breaking in through the bathroom window - and she hasn’t left since. No one ever claimed her and it seemed that she didn’t have a home to go back to so we adopted her, had her chipped and then moved to our house in the beautiful Elham Valley which we now share with 2 other cats, Molly and Poppy (who we rescued), and a random number of chickens. She’s always been a lazy cat - she lets Molly, our second oldest cat, catch all the mice then claims them as hers when Molly’s bought them in. In reality, she hates anything that’s alive being in her mouth and she wouldn’t hurt a fly. She’s caught bats before but lets them go without any harm, (in the front room, usually), at all to their delicate wings. She’s never clawed, scratched or bitten anyone and when she tells our other cats off she boxes her with all her claws in - she’d never hurt them. She really is one of a kind. In 3 weeks, however, we have another appointment with the vet. He told us that there is literally nothing they can do, nor anything we could have done, which can or would have helped. It doesn’t stop us feeling helpless, but it gives us a sense of reassurance that she has had a fantastic life with us - much better than she would have had if she’d not moved in when she did. The vet said we have to make the decision to either ignore the problem and let her go on as long as she can, or to go back in 3 weeks, (he’s given her a steroid injection in the meantime), and send her to sleep. We don’t think it’s fair to keep her going - it would be for our own selfish reasons, so we will make the decision to let her sleep. It’s a choice that humans don’t have and it is the very least we can do for such an important member of our family. It makes me more sad to think Baby Rawlings will not get to meet her by just a few months, but it’s not right to see her keep going in the condition she is in. Whilst she doesn’t seem to be in any pain, it’s obvious she’s feeling very low. It’s a hard decision to have to make, and although we knew that we’d have to do it one day, you’re never prepared. As I wipe the tears from my eyes and begin another bout of sobbing, I am reassured by the fact that we are so lucky to have time to say goodbye to our little cat. Not everyone has that luxury, so we will make the most of these last weeks with her and show her how much she is loved and how important she is to us. As we have done every day we have shared with her.
“To Sky,
We love you, Sky the Cat, and you will always be remembered - not only because you were our first cat, but because of your unique and kind personality. No other cat can replace you and the house will never be the same without you. When Baby Rawlings is born we’ll make her laugh with the stories we remember you by - like the time you got stuck in the expandable wine rack and ran around the living room wearing a wine rack tutu. You will be at peace and without suffering, and you will always, always be loved and your memory cherished. Yes, we promise to give you extra biscuits for the next few weeks. Yes, I will let you have a look in the towel cupboard. Molly and Poppy promise to behave too.
Lots of love and cat hugs and snuggles,
Mummy and Daddy (HuMan and HuLady)
XXX”
Poppy!
Poppy the rescued cat, looking much healthier just a few weeks after we bought her home!
When Two Became Three…
Thursday was not a good day. Paul had a Peacocks voucher which he needed to spend sharpish because they’d gone into administration, but they wouldn’t accept it nor give us the £20, plus I hadn’t been feeling myself so wasn’t really in the mood to go to work. Not that I usually am, but this day I REALLY didn’t want to be there - there’s so much to do in the garden at the moment that I feel like there are far more important things to do than fanny about designing a website for someone who’ll never be happy…
ANYWAY. At about lunch time, John, the architect from the office next door came around to the shop to borrow a screwdriver. He said they thought they’d had a rat problem but in fact a CAT was stuck behind one of their cupboards and had been possibly since before Christmas. I got the screwdrivers, said I hoped the cat would be ok, and got on with not enjoying my day and doing as little work as possible.Upon his return to bring back previously mentioned screwdrivers, he said that the cat was alive, but very skinny, and he had called the RSPCA. I looked at Paul and Paul looked at me… “Can we take it home?” I said, making it more of a statement than a question… Paul agreed and we said to send the RSPCA around to the shop so we could discuss re-homing it with them. The end of the day came, far quicker than lunch time had, and there was still no word from the RSPCA, so we trotted around to John’s to find out what was going on. He told us that the RSPCA had told him to simply “let the cat out”, even though it, (we though ‘he’ at the time…), was in a bad way. My heart broke. So did Paul’s. We are too soft. The lady at the office got us a filing box and we bundled the skinny moggy into it and drove it home with us, expecting to be looking after it for a short time before the owners were found and he was taken away for good. Paul shut the other cats in the front bedroom whilst we bought the new moggy indoors, but once he was out of the box Sky and Molly were released! Molly began her usual growling and hissing, so it wasn’t the nicest welcome for moggy and he sat under the kitchen table perched on a chair. Sky was a different story - she took one look at Molly and the new cat, then resumed her standard position of waiting for biscuits. We couldn’t have asked for more! They settled down eventually and we finally got to bed at 10:30pm (which is really late for me, at the moment!), after waiting for new moggy to have some biscuits and have a drink of water. The next day Paul phoned from work in the morning and told me the Cat Protection lady was coming with the chip scanner because a cat had indeed been reported missing. I was gutted. Despite telling myself that I wouldn’t grow attached, in the few hours we’d had him we’d got a little ‘bonding thing’ going on. I convinced myself that he was chipped and would have to go home, and it seemed like hours before the Cat Protection lady came to read the chip. When she finally turned up, she was kind enough to get on with the job rather than make idol chit-chat, but first informed me that ‘he’ was, in fact, a ‘she’! She pulled out the scanner and ran it over the soppy moggy. Nothing. I held the moggy still. Still nothing… She WASN’T CHIPPED and hadn’t been reported! I wanted to cry but couldn’t appear ridiculous to the lady, so I stifled my sniffles and asked a couple of ridiculous questions to take my mind off it. I’d spent so long convincing myself she’d be leaving I hadn’t bargained on her being able to stay! Finally the lady left us to it and I carried on settling moggy in. Paul and I settled on the name Poppy and this is her third day with us now. Sky is being as good as she ever was and Molly is getting used to her now, but still insists on growling and eating meals alone… I’m pretty sure she’ll settle down soon :-) Poppy woke us up by wetting our bed this morning! The joys of cats! She’s already worked out the litter tray, but Molly went on sentry duty outside the bedroom door and Poppy didn’t want to go past :-( I think they’ll grow to be good friends (eventually!) :-) Poppy has been eating lots and already looks more plump. She has a sparkle back in her eyes and even smiles now! So that’s the story of how two became three! Welcome home, Poppy!
