A True Cat Story.
by Kevin Purcell
It was around Christmas time in Ireland. I was out my back garden, on my honkers collecting snow for a snowman.
This friendly speckled black and white cat came up to me purring and climbed onto my lap. I had always been a dog man but i instantly took a liking to this cat. Of course i gave it some milk and food. The cat would come more and more until it got to the stage where it never left my windowsill! I fed it everyday. My friend named it Mrs. Whiskerson.
After a few months it started to get a bit of a belly. I presumed it was just from being well fed. One day i went out my back garden and Mrs. W looked half the size.
I was also instantly drawn towards a part of my garden that i didnt even knew existed. There was possibly a connection between myself and the cat.
From that moment, both our lives would change forever.
I looked down a small crack between my house and the next door neighbour's wall. I gasped with astonishing joy as I discovered four tiny little kittens. Three gold and one speckled, just like her mother. My joy soon turned to anxiety. "My parents are not going to like this." I thought.
The kittens must of been no older than a few hours old. As i once again get on my honkers, Mrs. Whiskerson comes between me and the hole and blocks my view of the multicoloured fur ball. Firstly i thought oww isn't that cute she's protecting her babies. However i soon realized as she gently put a paw on my lap she was asking for help. She said "You gotta help me Kev, you gotta help me."
Mrs. Whiskerson knew the danger her kittens would be in if my parents found them. You see, my parents were not all that fond of the cat. They certainly wouldn't let it in the house, afterall it was a stray. My mother was a hard women and grew up on a farm, she grew up with animals who would soon be slaughtered and eaten. She also constantly gave out about falling over the cat, when she was trying to put clothes to dry on the line. "I'll get rid of that damn cat!" My father also never let me have pets, despite years of pleading.
Hense myself and Mrs. W. had a serious problem. No way would my parents allow for five cats to be tearing up the place and ruining the flower bed. We had worries of what would happen to the kitties. I was afraid my parents would drown them or they would be sent to the cat pound.
In Ireland only 1 out 100 cats are saved there, the rest put down. All these things went through our heads. I looked into the kittens squinty eyes as they failed to crawl out of their small hole, and promised to Mrs. W. i'd find them each a safe and friendly home to live.
I managed to persuade my parents on a daily basis not to call the pound. This was no easy feat. In the meantime i kept trying to encourage the kitties to climb out of their whole. It was too narrow to reach them and i couldn't wait to play with them. The kittens would try with all their might to climb out but time and time again they would tumble back to where they came from.
Eventually one of the golden kittens mustered the strength to climb out. The fresh ham may have had something to do with it!
Continue for Part 3....
This Kitten only distinguished from his two brothers by a striped tail, was also the first to stand on two legs. He became my favourite, i named him 'Monty'.
Monty would jump on my legs and climb up to the top of my head everytime he saw me, leaving me with minimal scratches.
As the weeks went on, i became under more and more pressure from my parents to get rid of the kittens who were becoming troublesome. I intended on keeping Monty because i had gotten so attached to him. But what would that mean for Mrs. W? My parents would only allow me to keep one cat. I had felt more of a bond with Monty but I had known Mrs. Whiskerson for longer. My friend who named Mrs. W. agreed to take one. He chose the only female and named it Rosanna after an 80's hit for a band called Toto. (i know, weird!)
A kind old lady took one for her grandson, he named it Jack and it ran away after awhile.
However i could not find anyone for Monty and the other kitten, who i did not name because i didn't want to get too attached.
There was still three cats in my back garden. I had asked everyone i knew to take one at least three times. My parents were at boiling point. The rows were getting ridiculous. But i had made the promise to the kittens and Mrs. W.
My brother and his girlfriend were moving into a house in a new neighbourhood. I begged them to take a kitten. His girlfriend kept saying "i am NOT a cat person".
The day had come.
I could no longer protect Mrs. W and the last kitten from my parents. I never cry, but i cried.
They put Mrs. W and Monty's brother in a cardboard box. They decided the most humane thing was to release them in my brother's new neighbourhood, where hopefully a young family would feed them. It was the best i could wish for. I had no say any longer. My parents released the cat and the kitten outside my brother's home.
My brother and his girlfriend where not too happy to find them sitting on their windowsill when they returned from holiday. My brother and his girlfriend never did feed them. They tell me they see Mrs. W and the kitten around and they look healthy. I dont know whether or not it is true. I can only hope they're Ok.
Monty and Rosanna play out my back garden reguarly.