Loud screams could be heard from the kitchen.
‘I’ve broken my arm – take me to the hospital!’ she screamed.
And so she had! Kittens often get themselves into trouble. It seemed that children pretending to be kittens did the same thing.
Because we lived on a main road we kept the cats in the house most of the time, but we did have a run made for them in the garden. In the summer we put them outside and they would happily catch flies or just sunbathe on the tiered stand that John had made for them in their run. One day, I popped outside to bring the cats in and the door to the run was open – and worse, the side gate to the garden was also ajar.
We never saw the cats again, even though we searched for six weeks or more. I telephoned everyone I knew and had many people searching the roads and gardens in the area. It was a terrible thing. We walked the entire village and looked under every hedgerow. Our neighbours were having a lot of building work done at the time and often had lorries parked outside their house with the backs open. I liked to think that maybe the cats had climbed in and fallen asleep in the back. I dreamt that when the driver reached his destination the cats ran out and were immediately found by a cat lover who took them in and loved them the way that I did. It was how I coped with their loss for a very long time. The grief was once again unbearable, and as before I vowed never to get another pet.
I guess, like in the childhood film The Incredible Journey where three pets find their way home to their owners after they have moved house, I always hoped mine would find me again. But there was no happy ending to this story. Cats are special and find a place in our hearts, which is hard to replace.
It was many years again before I felt ready to buy another cat, because the heartache of losing these special creatures was too hard to bear. But being without them is almost as bad, so finally I succumbed. I began dreaming of a new kitten entering our lives. It was as if it was psychically ordained somehow. The dream would occur regularly, almost as if the kitten had been born and was waiting for us somewhere. I mentioned it to my husband, who immediately said, ‘No way!’ (and who could blame him); but I was undeterred. I began ringing up various rescue centres, and bought a collar and even some cat food in preparation!
My youngest daughter also had a dream and came in to see me one morning confidently saying, ‘Mum, I’ve seen the cat. It’s a male ginger kitten and it was chasing a butterfly.’ I felt sure she was right.
I begged my husband to take me to the RSPCA and we went together. Nothing felt right, though, and I was gutted when they told us we would be unable to take a kitten home immediately. I just burst into tears! Now, I’m not one to cry – in fact, I NEVER cry – unless, it seems, a pet is involved. They asked us to select a kitten, but in my mind it was too late – if we couldn’t take one home that day, I didn’t want one from them at all. John and the girls went back to the car while I pointed to a female tabby kitten. ‘That one’s fine,’ I said, with no emotion.
I was so embarrassed as the tears just kept falling down my face. All I wanted to do was go home, but I had to stay and fill in all the forms. A couple of people walked in behind me and I tried to hide my face. I knew they were wondering why I was crying, but I guess it was all the frustration of losing my kittens before. The memory just came flooding back and it was too much to handle. I wanted a kitten and I wanted it now.
The next day I telephoned the RSPCA and apologised for my behaviour but told them I had changed my mind. The kitten had been beautiful but she wasn’t our cat. Later that day I had a telephone call from the Cats Protection League. ‘Sorry I’ve taken so long to get back to you, Mrs Newcomb, but I’ve been away on holiday. We have several kittens in your area, including a couple of ginger tomcats, and they are ready now. Would you like to see them?’
I couldn’t believe it! I knew that our cat was among them, so we planned to visit later in the day. We rushed to the local garden centre to pick up a travel basket and placed it ready in the back of the car, then drove straight over to the ‘foster mother’ who was caring for the mother and her four kittens. They were eleven weeks old and neither of the male toms was particularly small. Memories of Charlie and his broken leg came flooding back and I was glad that these were a little bigger; it would be safer, I figured.
One of the male cats had a sore on his neck and was being treated with antibiotics. He was lovely but not ready to be taken away yet. My eldest daughter fell in love with the smallest female kitten and cried that we couldn’t have two. ‘Pick her up,’ I suggested, but the kitten just bit her and scrambled right over her head, scratching her arm on the way up to her basket. My youngest daughter had no such difficulties. She had already seen the ginger tomcat in her dream and just pointed quietly to the kitten sitting calmly in the corner.
‘That’s the one, Mum’, she said.
I picked him up and we carried him into the foster mother’s house where we signed all the forms and handed over our donation. We were able to take him straight home. This was our cat; he’d been shown to us in a dream and we knew it was right! We named him Tigger in the car on the way home, and as I carried him into our house I spotted a butterfly in the garden – the first one of the year – and I recalled my daughter seeing the cat playing with a butterfly in her dream. A strange coincidence, or just another sign? Who could tell?
Tigger gave a new lease of life to our elderly dog Lady. They took about a week to become friends and then happily chased each other around the house. Tigger grew into the most beautiful cat. He always came when we called him and slept in a shopping basket in the kitchen at night with Lady (they had one each!).
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