Read Online Casper the Commuting Cat: The True Story of the Cat Who Rode the Bus and Stole Our Hearts by Linda Watson-Brown, Susan Finden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Watson-Brown, Susan Finden
Tags: Biography, Non-Fiction
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in particular though, and it probably contributed to his wanderings. I plucked up the courage to go and speak to them and, lo and behold, when I got there, who should be lying in a basket by the fire but Casper.
The woman who lived there had bought it especially for him, but when I asked her whether she thought he was homeless, she admitted that she knew he lived with me. It felt as if he were a tug-of-love cat and I was going to have to fight for him – my chances were good, as the lady was heavily pregnant. I had to ask her to stop making her home quite so attractive to him. Casper was a clever enough cat but he was bound to be confused with the house move, the new roads and now a complete stranger inviting him in to a nice new bed. I asked her if she could please stop doing this and, if he visited again, to encourage him gently to return to his own house.
He continued to wander, and I suspected that he was still visiting his nice other bed, but I couldn’t keep haranguing this woman, who was only being kind. However, there was a lingering feeling, perhaps some sort of sixth sense, that made me concerned about those particular trips.
One day in March 2005, Casper had his breakfast as usual and then went out after about ten minutes. From what I can tell, he then wandered down to the car park beside the office block from where he could often get over the wall into the house and garden of the family who’d bought him his new basket. However, instead of disappearing for the day, he came back within the hour. As I was standing in the kitchen, tidying away the breakfast things, I heard a strange snuffling noise, like hedgehogs make. I opened the back door only to see my darling Casper covered in blood.
His face was almost unrecognizable. All I could do was grab him in my arms and run to the vet. The news was awful but it could have been worse. I was told that he had definitely been hit by a car and, although he had no apparent fractures, his jaw and mouth were both very bruised and he was extremely lucky to be alive. As he was cut and shaking with shock, he had to stay in overnight.
For the rest of his days, Casper’s lower lip area always had a black mark where he’d been hit and he dribbled slightly whenever he ate or drank. I had to keep an eye on him in case he developed sores on his lip. I couldn’t help but think that he had used up one of his nine lives with this accident. He was very lucky to have got out of it with only a few scrapes. ‘Oh, Casper,’ I whispered to him one night when he was safely at home, ‘you’re always going to give me sleepless nights, aren’t you? I don’t think I’m ever going to be settled with you around, young man.’
I went back to the house that Casper seemed so drawn to and asked the lady once more if she would please stop encouraging him – knowing full well that if Casper was determined, both she and I would have quite a job stopping him from doing whatever he pleased. I was terribly worried by the fact that he had probably been hit trying to get to this house with the comfy new basket, and was so relieved when the woman said that she would keep her door closed to her little visitor and not let him in, even if he turned those pleading eyes on her.
As I suspected, it wasn’t long before Casper threw a cat-shaped spanner in the works. Although he must have been very confused to have been given a new bed one day and faced with a closed door the next, he soon found a way round it. I discovered that he climbed onto the slanted roof of the house and got in through the bathroom window, which was always open. It was only when the woman had her baby and found Cassie in the airing cupboard one day that she made serious attempts to keep him out, and he finally got the message.
Casper may have had barred from one of his haunts, but he still had the attention of the women in the office block. Sometimes as I walked past, I would see him on the car park wall, surrounded by admirers,
The woman who lived there had bought it especially for him, but when I asked her whether she thought he was homeless, she admitted that she knew he lived with me. It felt as if he were a tug-of-love cat and I was going to have to fight for him – my chances were good, as the lady was heavily pregnant. I had to ask her to stop making her home quite so attractive to him. Casper was a clever enough cat but he was bound to be confused with the house move, the new roads and now a complete stranger inviting him in to a nice new bed. I asked her if she could please stop doing this and, if he visited again, to encourage him gently to return to his own house.
He continued to wander, and I suspected that he was still visiting his nice other bed, but I couldn’t keep haranguing this woman, who was only being kind. However, there was a lingering feeling, perhaps some sort of sixth sense, that made me concerned about those particular trips.
One day in March 2005, Casper had his breakfast as usual and then went out after about ten minutes. From what I can tell, he then wandered down to the car park beside the office block from where he could often get over the wall into the house and garden of the family who’d bought him his new basket. However, instead of disappearing for the day, he came back within the hour. As I was standing in the kitchen, tidying away the breakfast things, I heard a strange snuffling noise, like hedgehogs make. I opened the back door only to see my darling Casper covered in blood.
His face was almost unrecognizable. All I could do was grab him in my arms and run to the vet. The news was awful but it could have been worse. I was told that he had definitely been hit by a car and, although he had no apparent fractures, his jaw and mouth were both very bruised and he was extremely lucky to be alive. As he was cut and shaking with shock, he had to stay in overnight.
For the rest of his days, Casper’s lower lip area always had a black mark where he’d been hit and he dribbled slightly whenever he ate or drank. I had to keep an eye on him in case he developed sores on his lip. I couldn’t help but think that he had used up one of his nine lives with this accident. He was very lucky to have got out of it with only a few scrapes. ‘Oh, Casper,’ I whispered to him one night when he was safely at home, ‘you’re always going to give me sleepless nights, aren’t you? I don’t think I’m ever going to be settled with you around, young man.’
I went back to the house that Casper seemed so drawn to and asked the lady once more if she would please stop encouraging him – knowing full well that if Casper was determined, both she and I would have quite a job stopping him from doing whatever he pleased. I was terribly worried by the fact that he had probably been hit trying to get to this house with the comfy new basket, and was so relieved when the woman said that she would keep her door closed to her little visitor and not let him in, even if he turned those pleading eyes on her.
As I suspected, it wasn’t long before Casper threw a cat-shaped spanner in the works. Although he must have been very confused to have been given a new bed one day and faced with a closed door the next, he soon found a way round it. I discovered that he climbed onto the slanted roof of the house and got in through the bathroom window, which was always open. It was only when the woman had her baby and found Cassie in the airing cupboard one day that she made serious attempts to keep him out, and he finally got the message.
Casper may have had barred from one of his haunts, but he still had the attention of the women in the office block. Sometimes as I walked past, I would see him on the car park wall, surrounded by admirers,
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