To this day the best gift I ever got was a tiny ginger cat for my A-level graduation (never mind I begged for a cat since age 5 when our family cat died). Maikey was a star.
He moved in when he was just three weeks old as his previous owner drowned all his siblings and he was rescued last minute. Raising him by hand created a very close bond and he went with me to the bus station in the morning and awaited me in the evening. He came with me when I went to the grocery store and was in many ways more like a dog than a cat. He meowed when he was outside and it started to rain and very often found himself a nice neighbour who’d carry him home under an umbrella. He went into the pub with the neighbourhood boys and was brought home drunk in the middle of the night sleeping for 48 hours straight. He was home in more than one neighbour house.He’s the cat I can tell the most anecdotes about. When I moved out of my parent’s house I took him with me much to the disappointment of my dad who took the little one on more than one adventure when I wasn’t looking.
As I was working all day I found him a companion so he wouldn’t be alone and bored moving from a house with garden (and freedom) to a small flat. Pucky was way more shy and lost a lot of battles. This was us for a couple of years and several moves from flats with and without outdoor room to houses with wild fields around us and back to a second floor flat again. They took it really well. But then Mickey died from cancer never seeing the new home with garden I had arranged and it broke my heart as too the last minute he’d pick up on my mood always trying to console me.
Just a 1.5 years later Pucky died after an epileptic seizure following his diabetes. During this seizures I bit me heavily in my leg and I found myself sitting on my vet’s table at 4 am who cared for my wounds after having cared for my cat.
Mourning I resolved to not get another cat. But of course that didn’t last long and a couple of months later the cat of the colleague of my brother in law had kittens and he took me to visit them. I lost my heart and soon after found myself with Jeannie and Duncan.
Unfortunately there was something wrong with the genes of this litter and Jeannie became very sick. When she died at only age four she was the last but one of this litter to die. Only Duncan who was the only one with fluffy fur survived and still does at age nine.
As I didn’t want him to be alone Russell completed our team again. Russell’s arrival was an adventure as I rescued him with my then boss in a lunch break and he has the honour of having been to my office and met some colleagues. We still call him my former boss‘ godchild.
His second name is Krawalli which translates into rebel. He is curious and from the start had the upper hand on Duncan who was almost 5 years older. He picks fights in the neighbourhood and is the cat I had to take to the vet the most. (And may I just add that I my vet is a genius and often went the extra mile on weekends or in the middle of a night.) But Russell also is a Zen teacher in the art of relaxation.
It’s more than two decades since my parents gifted me with that first tiny ginger ball of fur and today Russell and Duncan are my much loved roomies.
All my love 💞