Buttons here, Buttons there, Buttons everywhere – yadda, yadda, yadda. Let’s talk about me for a change, right? Right. While sorting through papers (you know, that spring-cleaning which always seems to happen in August), the woman found my old “International Certificate Of Vaccination”. That’s sort of neat, isn’t it? It’s a bit like finding one of your old baby pictures that you completely forgot about. Would you believe she’s got a “Charlie Box”, where all Charlie-related items and papers are kept? She’s such a sentimental old sap.
Anyway. I was curious and peeked over her shoulder. “Born on 8th April, 1998″ – woah, I’m older than I thought! Well, I’m not an old bat like Emma yet, but uh, it’s a bit of a shock to learn you’re twelve. That might explain my receding hairline… there was also the name of the woman who looked after me for eight years. I remember her very well; she loved me and my buddy Bonnie very much. And you can tell she took very well care of me; she always got me to the vet in time for my shots, year after year, never missing one. And then she died. Why do people have to die and leave their cats behind? I don’t understand this. I don’t think people understand it, either, so I guess we can only accept it.
I wish I had some pictures of myself as a kitten, though. The woman always tells me that I must have been a very cute kitten. “Cute” – that’s insulting. I was wild and ferocious! Well, at least I think I was. Beside Certificate of Vaccination, the woman also found the newsletter from the animal shelter where she first saw me. Want to know what I looked like back then? Sure? Really? OK, but don’t laugh!
FEAR THE KILLER PAW OF DOOOOM!
Oh, and that’s Bonnie. She used to live with me, but found a new home elsewhere.
After the death of our kind woman, her friends looked after me and my mate for well over a year, but eventually, we had to find a new home. It’s not easy leaving home, you know? It’s not just the place or the beloved chair. It’s the memory of a kind hand stroking my fur and a friendly voice calling my name – all gone.
I arrived at the shelter back in October 2007, and as I’m a cat who appreciates good company, I kept far away from the dogs and settled into the office. Unfortunately, nobody allowed me to use the computer, or I could have started this blog much earlier. I got a special cat bed on the window sill, and soon forged friendships with the smashing lot managing the shelter.
But of course, the idea was not for me to stay there, so me and Bonnie were introduced to potential new companions in the November-newsletter:
Charlie’s already nine years old. Charlie’s blind on his left eye. He’s also missing his left front leg, which had to be amputated five years ago when he stepped into a snap trap. Charlie was lucky, because he managed to make it home despite his terrible injury. Despite his disabilities he’s full of life and longing for a place where he’ll be safe and loved.
You could think the phone would have rang non-stop, but nope – not one call or mail. Frustrating! The woman saw my picture, but at that time, she still had that ill-tempered ginger flea carrier called Paddy O’Paw at home, a stray of biblical age with failing kidneys, bad breath and an addiction for chocolate-hazelnut spread, who’d spent most of his life down at the local fish’n'chips shop.
I never met Paddy, but I heard many stories about him. Whatever Paddy wanted, Paddy got, so when he told the woman not to get any funny ideas about adopting a cute little kitty or any such nonsense once he was gone, as he was moving to greener pastures so that some other old cat nobody wanted would get a new home, it wasn’t up for discussion. I’m not surprised they didn’t call him “Sunny”.
One week after the Padster had left for Walhalla (because really, what other place could have coped with him?), the second newsletter arrived. You can tell from the picture that I was singing the blues. Badly.
Unfortunately, nobody’s been interested in Charlie so far. You don’t happen to be looking for a flat mate who loves to cuddle, do you?
The rest, as they say, is history.
Charlie and Bounce
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