Julie Rosenfield

My journal


I stayed up waiting for her that night. Just as well. I knew she’d been crying the moment she walked in.

“Oh Fluffy”, she wept, taking me in her arms. “Rob says you have to go.”

I felt my long black fur being moistened from her tears. Just after I’d licked it clean too. Never mind, Jenny needed me.

“He says he’s allergic to you. He says if he moves in, you’ll have to go and live with Mum.”

My fur bristled. Jenny’s mum was ok but I wasn’t too keen on her partner, Bill. I’d had to stay there sometimes when Jenny went on holiday. Bill had so many rules.

“No cats in the bedroom,” he had shouted firmly one night, when I had been seeking shelter from a thunderstorm.

And as for the food they gave me … I wrinkled my nose at the memory of the cheap cat food they had on offer. No treats there. “Take it or leave it,” offered Bill with a snarl.

Not like the treats Jenny always gave me. And her soft, warm bed. After all, wasn’t I her special furry alarm clock?

“What am I to do?” Jenny wailed. By this time, my fur was getting soaked. I’d better act soon if I didn’t want to be a soggy moggy.

I miaowed pointedly. Jenny understood, she picked me up gently and took me up to her bed. I lay there curled up, listening to Jenny’s sniffles. I don’t think either of us got much sleep that night.

While she stroked me, I pondered the situation. I hadn’t liked Rob the moment Jenny had brought him home. He’d insisted she put me outside as soon as he had arrived. “Cats make me sneeze” he’d said, as she’d unwillingly had to show me to the door.

Allergic indeed. My special cat senses leaped in. Something smelt fishy and it wasn’t my tuna dinner.

But what was to be done? I heard Jenny on the phone to her mum the next day. “I don’t know what to do,” she wailed, “He says it’s either him or the cat. I do love Rob, Mum, but Fluffy’s been with me for seven years. What should I do?”

I had better think of something soon, I thought, if I didn’t want Jenny packing me off to her Mum’s. But what?

I took a trip round the neighbourhood. Mo, a battered old tom cat who lived at the other end of the street, would know what to do. We’d often share a saucer of milk at his house and discuss the ways of the world, and I’d listen enthralled to Mo’s tales of his female feline acquaintances in the neighbourhood.

Later, I came home, sat and pondered what Mo had told me. But what to do about it? I realised I would have to make another visit……..

That night when Jenny came home from work, I wasn’t there. I knew she’d be worried because I never stayed out all night. But after all, I pondered, in an unfamiliar kitchen three streets away, it was for her own good. And mine.

It was time to put the plan into action. I turned round and nipped the sleeping Siamese cat next to me. “Meoowwwwww!” she yelled, right on cue.

The next moment, a blonde, curly-haired little girl came downstairs. She looked at the Siamese, looked at me and then shouted at the top of her voice, “MUM!”

Her cries attracted a slim, fair- haired woman who ran downstairs, came over to the basket and looked at me.

“Oh my goodness,” she exclaimed, “I haven’t seen you before.”

She bent over me and looked at my name tag. “Fluffy.” She read out, then turned it over and saw the phone number engraved on the silver disc. “Well, I’d better give your owners a ring, they’ll be worried about you.”

And so it was that a short while later, Jenny came round to collect me.

“Honestly, I’m sorry for all the trouble,” she apologised. “Fluffy’s not like this normally. He never goes into other people’s houses.” I stifled a grin, if only she knew. It was enough to make a cat laugh.

“My daughter found her,” said the young woman. “She loves cats. Well, we all do. Even my husband. Although he doesn’t like the fur getting on his clothes which is why we have a short-haired cat like Suky.”

“Oh yes,” said Jenny happily, “Fluffy’s hairs do get everywhere. But I don’t mind,” she announced, giving me a big hug.

At that moment, the door opened, and a very familiar, slim, dark-haired man walked in.

“Sarah, I heard voices …” he began, then looked at me, looked at Jenny and ………….

That night, there were extra treats for me. Not just my favourite gourmet salmon supper but a new catnip ball.

“And to think, Fluffy,” said Jenny, pointedly, “That I was so nearly taken in by him. Rob wasn’t allergic to you at all. He just didn’t want your hairs appearing on his clothes when he went home to his wife.”

I purred happily. I’d had a narrow squeak this time but needed to be sure for next time. I decided I’d leave it for a few days and would then disappear overnight again – this time to Mo’s house where I knew Mo’s owner Dave was looking for a new girlfriend. He was a really nice chap who always tickled my tummy and gave me lots of treats. Jenny was sure to like him.

And so I yawned, stretched and congratulated myself on the end to a purr-fect day.

CPL cat

To adopt or support a cat who needs care, please visit Cats Protection  http://www.cats.org.uk/


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