(My dearest, closest companion from December
until her death on May 22 2003)
|My friend Ruth said to me, "Why do they always come to
I replied, "because you stand there with a bowl of food going, 'Puss, Puss, Puss...'".
Anyway, Poppett was another of Ruth's rescues and, having been catless for a couple of years I thought, "here's a small thing in need of love. That makes two of us", and agreed to take her.
I am used to getting on with cats. Most cats I have ever
met seem suddenly like long-lost friends. Poppett spent the first twenty-four
hours under the floor. I called Ruth, "It's no good; she doesn't
like me, you'll have to take her back". Ruth coaxed her out from
her hiding place and insisted we tried again. She spent most of the next
week under a bookcase, but slowly started to investigate me and the house,
deciding that we weren't, perhaps, too bad.
I introduced her to the garden once I was sure she felt
at home here. (How do you know when a cat feels at home? When they take
It's been about ten years and I guess you could say we get on quite well together now!