What’s better than a human interest story? A feline interest story!
Last week, a letter came for my parents from a vet saying that they had come across a cat, scanned it and found that it’s details lead to us. It was Norris. We had adopted him years ago. I remember returning from Singapore after a month’s stint and there was a black and white cat sitting on the couch staring back at me. We had him for about a year or two before one day he left and never came back. From his adoption pack, he was taken in as a stray, I figured that perhaps he got fed up of domestic life and fancied something more off beat and adventurous. He was always a bit of a wild one and just never understood the etiquette of not helping himself to human dinner on the kitchen counter or table. When he didn’t return after a week, I thought he was dead, mangled under the wheels of a passing vehicle.
A year or two passed and Cici became part of the household. Unlike Norris, he had always been pampered having belonged to an elderly person before she had to give him up due to poor health.
So, upon learning of Norris’ existence, I later found out that he was now residing in Dustable having been loitering around the neighbourhood for about a year. Yesterday, I went up to collect him, he was being looked after by a middle-aged couple who already had two cats and Norris (who now went by his street name of “Scoobie”) hung out with them. Apparently, he was sort of being looked after by a family a few doors down who had lots of other animals and didn’t look after him very well (it conjured up images from those documentaries of animal hoarders with animals living in squalor). He was loitering around, looking gaunt and nervous so these kind Samaritans enticed him in and fed him along with their cats. It wasn’t until they had to take their own cats to the vets for their annual check-up that they took Norris along too and discovered his details.
It’s definitely Norris, he never did travel well and the hour drive back to London was traumatic for all involved. I had to wash him when we got home. Cici came in and wondered what all the hubbub was all about. They sniffed each other out and as expected, Cici was none too pleased. A fight didn’t break out, there was just a lot of disgruntled meowing.
Norris spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening sitting and cleaning himself in the darker recess of the laundry room while Cici just went about his business in the house with the occasional growl and hiss whenever he passed Norris. I wonder how long, if ever, it’ll take for them to live harmoniously together. This morning at breakfast, Cici didn’t want to eat in the same room as Norris. Norris on the other hand, didn’t seem to care and continued chowing down. He seems to be settling in well despite Cici’s protestations, and has been scratching at the door like he used to when he wanted to go out.
What I want to know is how he managed to make his way up to Dunstable. I suspect he jumped into a van while exploring and accidentally got locked in. There is still 5 years which I can’t account for. If only he could speak.