I thought it best to start the blog off with a post about all the many cats that have been in my life during my time on Earth so far. In total there have been eight and there has been very little time in which a feline friend hasn’t graced my life.
I was born into a family who already owned two cats, a black tom cat named Sooty and a tabby female cat named Tiger-Two. (there was a Tiger (one) but he was before my time, and if my memory serves me correctly, he ran away from home)
Sooty was the elder of the two, although probably only by a year or so and both came from my Auntie’s cat, Sookie. I don’t really remember a great lot about Sooty. In fact my only memory is probably of his death. He was laid outside in the garden in the pouring rain and Mum and I were both tapping on the window laughing at him sleeping in the rain. When we went to the door he didn’t even flinch and that was when we discovered he had died. I was only 5 at the time. He was buried in the garden beside my swing so I quite often talked to him while I was playing.
Tiger-Two thankfully lived a much longer life. She died when I was 16, shortly after my birthday. She was a good friend to me, sitting with me when I was ill, playing in the garden with me and generally acting like an older protective sister. It was tough to digest her death and I often still think about her. I had to leave the house and go out as she was dying and while she was buried because it was too much really.
Around six months after Tiger-Two’s death my parents adopted two more kittens – another black male who I named Charlie (after the band Good Charlotte) and a black and white male that my Mum named Will. I have such fond memories of them as kittens, sitting on my shoulders whilst I played videos games, and chasing a ball up and down the hallway with them.
Will was killed about a year after he was adopted. He was missing for some time and we eventually found out he’d been run over and the man who found him had disposed of him. Charlie, on the other hand is now thirteen years old and still kicking. He still lives with my parents, but he recognises me every time I go home. He did have his own six month adventure away, but thankfully he was found again and came back to live with the family – I’m sure I’ll talk more about his trip in the future.
During Charlie’s sabbatical from the family, Mum and Dad adopted another two kittens, this time named Bobby and Cilla (after Cilla Black and her husband). They were the most adorable little things. I didn’t see them all that often, as by this time I had moved about
300miles away so it wasn’t easy to get home regularly. Unfortunately, as seems to be the curse of the cat pairing with our family, Bobby passed not long after their first birthday. My parents had posted missing articles in the paper and online, and eventually someone notified them of a cat left on the side of the road. He too had been run over.
Cilla and Charlie now still live with my parents but then it was my turn to finally adopt my ‘own’ two cats. Laser the tabby came along first, adopted from a family who were pretty desperate to get rid of her, followed a year later by McLaren the ginger who was adopted from Cats Protection. I’ll be writing a lot about Laser and McLaren on this blog, and the stories of their adoptions are the next two blogs I plan to write.
I’m hoping this list isn’t the end of the cats in my life, as I would love to have feline companions for the rest of my life. Sad as it is when they die, there are always plenty of other cats needing a home to fill another space in your heart.