CATS WE HAVE KNOWN by Penny Dolan

During August, our Cat Oliver went on his last trip to the vets: sad but not as sad as seeing him suffering, and knowing the outcome never would be be good.  Oliver was a handsome, two-year old long-haired cat. He was independent, clean and tidy, and a very good cat to have around when he chose to be here.  

Posy Simmond's fabulous story about the secret fame of a departed pet.

Oliver came to us from the local Cats Rescue. During the process, we learned that he had been homed and returned twice before.Unfortunately, his good looks could not make up for his defensive habit of 'nipping' sharply when stroked, which would have frightened young children. As the Rescue people no longer thought of Oliver as an ideal pet for a young family, he arrived at our quiet house.

Not all cats are cute! Mr Pusskin by Sam Lloyd

I could not help wondering about his history, imagining his life as a kitten. Certainly Cat Oliver - or whatever he was called in those days - was not handled gently, well or kindly. 

Wanda Gagg's fantastic fable about the trouble involved in choosing a kitten

 

I saw him as a too-young kitten, brought to his first home as a present for an inquisitive toddler. Or  causing trouble in a family home where a new baby was expected? Maybe the once-pretty ball of fluff Oliver had been was simply one small creature too many to care for? How many other homes was he passed on to within those two years? 

Gobbolino, the heart-warming tale of a kitten that needs to find the right home.

Mysteriously, Oliver was also terrified by the rustling of plastic bags and by the arrival of big boxes. Had he been left behind as people packed and left? Had he hidden away until it was too late? Who knew? Not us.  Despite beds, boxes and blankets in plenty, his only fixed place was the furthest, out-of-the-way corner of our spare back bedroom where he could watch out for any intruders.

Vivianne Schwartz's delightful and amusing picture book.

 Our Oliver was definitely a survivor: he curled charmingly (and deceptively) around ankles when he wanted to be fed and was often befriended, be-fed and be-'treat'ed by helpful neighbours. Then he would arrive and sniff dismissively at whatever was on offer here. He was also a master of deciding against a new food after a months-worth had been bought in. This mix of sabotage and pickiness was a huge problem as Oliver needed daily medication for his eyesight. At one time I delivered polite letters to all the neighbours in the hope of getting any guilty cat-feeders to stop. 

Inga Moore's popular picture book about feline greed and cunning.

However, over the years, Cat Oliver did settle with us in our house, roaming our garden and our neighbour's gardens. After a while, he tolerated a little stroking and rarely bit, except at the vets, where he was red-carded. He was never, ever a fan of grooming and had a very raggle-taggled look to him at some seasons of the year, helped along by his love of sleeping under the hedge, listening for birds or any one of the three enemy cats.

There's a wonderfully furry coat in Emily Gravett's gentle story

 Sometimes , as a warning, Oliver would still hold your hand with his teeth yet, if you stayed still, he no longer bit. He took to sitting on the sofa beside us for as long as a quarter of an hour at a time.He was not always an easy cat, but he was a good and interesting cat and we were glad to have had his company. He joins the line of cats we have owned, cats we've loved and cats we've made  up our own stories about.

As Judith Kerr showed us, whether clever or not, some cats take up a very special place in our hearts

 However, my last memories of Cat Oliver are not of his sometimes crotchety ways, but of him in my workroom at the back of the house over his last weeks. He curled up meekly and silently on a soft folded blanket that I'd folded into a soft cushion beside my chair. He stayed there, hardly moving, seeming almost grateful for human company. No longer the bold, furry gentleman but our dear cat, ailing day after day.  Now we are going through the time of the ghost cat, the days when every draught through a door or misplaced garment or shadow makes us think, for a moment, Cat Oliver is still around the house - while knowing he is not.  Farewell, Cat Oliver. Farewell, dear friend!

Penny Dolan