readily. You guys are amazing, thank you. And where’s Rocky?’
‘Oh he was tired, so he went off for a nap. That cat likes its sleep.’
‘What cat doesn’t?’ I replied.
George appeared shortly afterwards, saving me from having to go and find him.
‘How was Harold?’ I asked. Harold and George shared a love of digestive biscuits, among other things. Harold dunked them in strong tea, until they were soggy and then fed them to George.
‘He was fine, good actually. It’s nice and quiet at his house. Not like ours,’ George replied in that stroppy way of his when he was sulking. ‘Although Claire took Pickles to see him earlier and even he said the dog was sweet.’ He stomped his paw.
‘George, I know you’re not happy about Pickles, but I need you to help me,’ I started, carefully.
‘Help you do what?’ George asked, sounding surly.
‘George, when you came to live with me, I was your dad straight away, and you were so tiny, there was so much for me to teach you.’
‘So?’ Gosh this boy could act like a teenager at times.
‘Well, you had me, and our cat friends, and Tiger mum to help you learn as you grew, so that made you very lucky.’
‘S’pose.’
‘Right, but Pickles, well he doesn’t have anyone to guide him, apart from us. And I know it’s different because he’s a dog but he doesn’t have any other dog friends. He probably misses his mum very much, he’s just a baby.’
‘I guess so. But what can I do about it?’
‘You can be a big brother to him, like Aleksy, Henry and Toby all are. It’s a very important, responsible role.’
‘It is?’
‘Of course, you’ve seen how much our human big brothers take care of the little ones, and it’s a role that I think you are ready for.’
I noticed that Elvis and Nellie were listening and trying not to grin. We all knew the way to get George to agree to anything was flattery.
‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘you would probably make the best big brother ever.’
No,’ George said. Which surprised me.
‘Why not?’ I asked.
‘He doesn’t live with me so he can’t be my brother.’ He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
‘What about a cousin then?’ Nellie suggested. ‘I’m like an aunt to you, George, so how about you be a big cousin to Pickles.’
‘That’s a great idea, Nellie.’ I nuzzled her in gratitude.
‘But what do I have to do as a big cousin?’ George asked.
‘You can teach him things,’ Elvis said.
‘Yes,’ Nellie added. ‘You are a cat, and he’s a dog, but there’s still plenty you can show him.’
‘You mean that I can teach him things that I can do?’ George at least sounded interested now.
‘That’s right, George. You can also show him how to be kind, how to be caring, all the important lessons that we taught you,’ I added.
‘And what about you? You can’t be his dad because you’re my dad,’ he said, and I heard jealousy rearing up in his voice.
‘If you’re like a cousin to him then maybe I can be a bit like an uncle to him. Does that sound OK with you? Because you are my son, my number one and you always will be, understood?’
‘Yes, you’re right, we need to be nice to Pickles. He can be my friend, after all.’ George hopped around, and even I was surprised by the sudden change in attitude.
‘Oh George, that’s so great, and you’ll grow to love him, I’m sure you will.’ I crossed my paws he would anyway.
‘After all, I have a very big heart,’ George said.
‘You do,’ Nellie agreed, in the motherly way of hers.
‘The biggest,’ Elvis added, he was a wise cat, when he felt like it, as he licked his paw.
‘And I am proud of you every single day,’ I added, as emotion overwhelmed me.
‘A bit like how I was friends with Hana when she moved from Japan and was lonely, I can try to be the same with Pickles. But Hana’s my best friend, so I won’t like Pickles as much as I like her.’
‘That’s OK.’ I sensed the need for baby steps.
‘You’re right, Dad. Pickles is a silly puppy, who doesn’t know anything, right?’
‘I’m not sure about the silly part but yes,’ I agreed. Actually, he was silly, but I was trying to get George to bond with him, not tease him.
‘So, I need to teach him everything I know,’ George added.
‘Exactly,’ I agreed.
‘I will do what you asked, and I will start tomorrow morning. I’m going to teach Pickles catting.’
‘Eh?’ Nellie said.
‘It makes sense. Pickles is a dog, and everyone knows they’re not as good as cats, so I will increase his chances by teaching him to be like me.’
Nellie, Elvis and I blinked at each other. It wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but seeing as I had somehow led him to this place I couldn’t argue. I didn’t have a paw to stand on after all.
‘It’s more about teaching him things you know,’ I reiterated.
‘And I know how to be a cat. So that is what I will teach him. I’m going to teach Pickles how to be a cat, and I just can’t wait to get started.’
The education of Pickles would have to wait because we had headed next door to Sylvie’s for a Japanese night. The night started out badly when Jonathan was late, because of his new job, which led to an angry hushed exchange at our house between him and Claire. I knew it was because he wanted to change out of his suit, but Claire said he didn’t have time, and that he should have left work earlier. I could see both points, Jonathan was working hard, which he had warned us he would have to, but the reality wasn’t as easy as the theory, it seemed.
Sylvie served up some wonderful Japanese food, including raw fish – sashimi – for me, Hana and George before the humans were seated. It was delicious. When Sylvie
