I’ve loved and lost a lot in my life, both humans and cats, and you never stop missing them, a lesson I have learnt the hard way. But on the flip side, a heart is a wonderful thing. It’s big and has the capacity to love many people and many cats. I even managed to love Pickles, who is a dog, andI never thought I’d hear myself saying that. Despite the fact I’m now reunited with Snowball – who was my first love, before Tiger – I miss Tiger. And that’s fine, because as I said, the heart is a miracle and it’s big enough for all it needs to be big enough for. It allows you to miss those you’ve lost and still love those who are with you.
‘She’d be so proud of you, son,’ I said, because it was true. She would.
‘I know, Dad,’ George replied.
I think he gets his modesty from me.
‘Right, lad, let’s go to bed.’ I started to make my way inside, giving the star one last glance. It seemed to blink at me. I blinked back.
We probably had a big week ahead of us, we had a lot of people and cats to check on so there was always a list of things to do. Especially as I worried about Tommy; I had to be on alert.
‘Before we go to bed, Dad, what am I going to do with that awful bonnet that Doris gave me?’
‘Well the polite thing would be to wear it when she is here, at least for a bit.’
‘But it’s scratchy. I was thinking I could bury it in the garden, blame it on Pickles.’
‘George, that’s not nice.’
‘But the hat isn’t nice.’
‘I know, but we do these things to make people happy and if you have to wear it for a short time, every now and then to make Doris smile, is that so terrible?’
He glared at me and then he raised his whiskers.
‘I guess not, especially as you’ll have one as well next time.’ I could hear him laughing as I followed him into the house.
Chapter Three
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Humans will never cease to amaze me. In the morning, our house springs to life in a very dramatic way. There’s shouting, jostling, arguments, and occasionally tears. Jonathan gets ready for work – normally with maximum fuss as he seems unable to find anything. Claire rouses the children from their beds (the tears are usually theirs), then she feeds us cats and prepares breakfast for everyone before going to get dressed. Toby rushes downstairs as if there’s a fire, and Summer sulks as she hates mornings these days. Claire fires questions at everyone: ‘Have you got much on at work today? Have you done your homework? Do you need your PE kit? Why won’t you eat your toast …’ You get the idea. George and I eat our breakfast and then attempt to escape before the madness of trying to get everyone out of the house begins. Trust me, it’s chaos. Jonathan leaves first, rushing out, often moaning about where his keys are even though they are always in the same place. Summer takes forever getting her shoes on, Claire gets exasperated as she repeats the same thing over and over, and Toby gets cross about being late, because he hates being late. The thing is, this happened every single weekday morning. Every single one. You would think they would learn, but no. Humans! Who’d have them?
If only they could be more like us. George and I get up, have a good stretch and a quick wash before we have our breakfast, then we have a more thorough clean up and we’re ready for the day. Totally fuss free.
I know that our house isn’t unique. Polly and Matt, with Henry and Martha, have the same situation. George says that our next door neighbours, including Hana, are far more organised than our family, and definitely not as shouty. But Sylvie has just had baby Theo, so she doesn’t go to work, and her partner Marcus is actually very calm. As for Connie, she’s more sensible than any of the grown-ups put together, so she manages to get herself to school. The main noise is caused by Theo, who basically ensures none of them get enough sleep – I can vouch for that as I remember when Summer was a baby. We were all sleep deprived and grumpy in the mornings as a result. But like Summer, Theo will grow out of it and start sleeping at some point. When George was a tiny kitten it took him a while to learn to sleep at night as well, actually, thinking about it.
Back to ours. George and I gave them a wide berth until they were all safely out of the house. After snatching a few moments’ peace and quiet after they were gone, our day could begin.
‘I’m going to Hana’s,’ George said. Since the baby, Hana had been happier to go for walks than normal. Hana was from Japan, and she was a house cat when she moved with Sylvie and Connie next door to us on Edgar Road. After trying for ages, we managed to get her to go outside but she only liked it when it was warm. However, since Theo’s arrival, she seemed to prefer the cold to staying at home all day long. I didn’t go with George and Hana on their morning walks because it was the cat equivalent of a date for them and who wanted their parents to go on a date with them? No one, that’s who.
Despite the fact it was a cold and breezy day, I decided to go and visit Tomasz, Franceska, Aleksy and Tommy. They lived in Edgar Road when I first moved there, but for a few years now, they’d lived next door to one of the restaurants they’d opened. They had come over from Poland, worked hard, and now had a number of popular restaurants, which provided great food. And I should know, as I am sometimes one of their chief tasters.
I assumed that Aleksy and Tommy would be at school, and Tomasz and Franceska would probably be working in the restaurant, so I hoped I might get a snack, and could see my cat friend Dustbin who worked for them. He was a bit of a feral cat, with a big heart and we had been friends for years. He kept the rodent population by the restaurant under control– not a job I would like by the way, but he loved his work. He was totally dedicated. I was still a bit worried about Tommy. He wasn’t himself on family day – understatement – and Franceska and Tomasz were obviously upset, so I wanted to see if I could gather as much information as possibleabout the situation, before I came up with a plan to sort it out.
I felt the wind in my fur as I ran through the back alley to the yard. Dustbin was there, licking his paws– probably after another successful rodent control – with his friend Ally, whom he was loath to call his girlfriend, although she was.
‘Hey Alfie,’ he said as he spotted me. His whiskers were raised and he sounded pleased to see me.
‘Dustbin, Ally,’ I said in greeting.
‘What brings you here in the cold?’ Ally said. She always teased me, calling me a spoilt cat with my warm homes and numerous humans to pamper me. Who was I to argue? I loved my life. But I wasn’t that fair weather, as I’ve already said. I even went out in snow. I felt my fur shiver at the thought of snow, but it might not be too far away now. Snow made me think of Christmas, and Snowball, who was as white as snow – hence her name.
‘I thought I’d brave it in order to see my two good friends,’ I replied, with a grin. I liked Ally, but she had taken a bit of winning over. She wasn’t used to being friends with ‘pampered’ cats.
‘Good to see you, Alfie. Here to catch up on the news?’ Dustbin asked. He kept me abreast of the goings on with my third family, as he saw them far more often than I did.
‘Is there news about Tommy?’ I raised my whiskers.
‘Well, yes, I’m afraid there is,’ Dustbin said, sounding serious.
‘Oh no.’ I felt my heart sink. Whereas Aleksy – who happened to be my first ever human child friend – was sensitive, serious, and a hard worker, his younger brother Tommy was the opposite. He was a good kid but he did get into trouble. Once, when George was a kitten, he sneaked him to church with the family, another time he snuck him into the younger children’s Nativity play and put him in the manger, replacing the doll that was supposed to be the baby Jesus. That even made the local newspaper. But you get the idea. He was mischievous rather than bad, I liked to think. Although, if family lunch had been anything to go by, he was now transitioning to bad.