Kaspar: Prince of Cats. Michael Morpurgo
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I cried myself to sleep that night. Mr Freddie was right. The Countess had been like a mother to me – not that I knew what a real mother was like, but she was certainly the mother I had always hoped to find. I had found her, and now she was gone. I had lost as well the first real friend I had ever had, the first person who had ever told me they liked me. I cannot tell you how grateful I have always been to her for that. In all my life I have never known anyone whose light shone so brightly, so brilliantly and so briefly. The shock of her death stunned everyone. For days afterwards the whole hotel was plunged into a deep sadness.
I hate to have to admit it, but to begin with I was too wrapped up in my own grief to notice Kaspar, nor to think very much about him and what would happen to him, now that the Countess was gone. It took Mr Freddie to jolt me out of my self-pity.
“I’ve been watching you, Johnny lad,” he said to me one evening. “You’ve been moping about the place all day. You’ve got to buck yourself up, you have. It won’t hardly bring her back, will it? And I’m sure it’s not what she would have wanted. You know what she’d have wanted. She’d like for you to go on looking after that cat of hers as well as you can, for as long as you can. And if you’re feeling bad, think what that cat must be feeling. So you go up there, Johnny and see to him. The Countess’ rooms are bought and paid for another month at least, so I’ve been told. I reckon it’s your job to look after that Kaspar, till someone from the family comes and fetches him away.”
So that’s what I did, and that’s when I began to notice how sad Kaspar had become. That’s when I noticed something else too. Every time I went in to be with Kaspar it was as if the Countess was there in the room with me. Sometimes I thought I even smelled her perfume. Sometimes I was sure I heard her humming and singing. More than once, late in the evening, I heard that lullaby playing on the piano. And time and again I thought I caught sight of her in the mirror, but when I turned round she wasn’t there. I knew she had been, though. I was certain of it. I wasn’t frightened, not exactly. But it troubled me, and made me feel uncomfortable every time I went into her room.
It was obvious to me that Kaspar sensed her presence too. He was not himself at all. He was nervous, restless, anxious. He didn’t purr anymore. He’d stopped washing himself, and so far as I could see, he hardly slept. He’d spend hours searching the rooms for the Countess, yowling piteously. He wouldn’t eat, he wouldn’t drink. He was clearly pining for her. I decided that maybe if I took him out more often, for walks in the park, it might help him. He drank from the puddles then, which was something.
I tried to reassure him all I could. I told him over and over that everything would be all right. Sitting there on our bench one day I promised him faithfully that I’d look after him. But I could see he wasn’t listening. More and more he just didn’t seem to care. More and more he just didn’t seem to want to go on living. I tried feeding him by hand, but he would only sniff at it and turn away. I tried calves liver from the kitchen. I tried best beef, finely chopped. Nothing worked. Kaspar was losing weight all the time, losing his sleekness. His coat was beginning to stare. He was already the ghost of his former self. There seemed to be nothing I could do to halt his decline. I knew if he went on like this, it could only end one way. Now I would lie awake at night, not grieving for the Countess any more, but trying desperately to think of some way of saving Kaspar’s life.
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