Susie was part of our family for over 20 years and will have a place in my heart forever - soppy but true.
We
got Susie on sports day 1989. I remember: the mother of a boy in my
class bringing her into school for us, the jump for joy excitement
and taking her to show my teacher Mrs Riley.
We'd
had a cat before Susie – Candy - who unfortunately met with a
premature and very grisly end on the road at the back of our house
(something no 5 year old boy should have to see). Candy's death was
hard to take – especially for my older sister who cried non-stop
for a whole week – but luckily for us Candy's slutty mother was
expecting another litter.
I
don't know if it was love at first sight. I've more recently come to
realise that I don't particularly like cats. Other people's cats are
OK but I can't imagine me ever wanting another of my own. There can
only ever be one cat for me. But either way, by the time I was in my
teens we were the best of friends. Every night – against my mum's
wishes – Susie would sleep at the end of my bed; even though I knew
she would wake me up at 6am to be let outside – I really didn't
mind.
As
though she had never been away
Susie
Me
It
happened last week – cats like
toddlers have no concept of time – when the weather was
fine enough for me to stay outside all day and sleep amongst the
flowers at the bottom of the yellow tree.
It
happened when I was about eighteen, so Susie must have been around
thirteen. Not knowing she would live into her 21st year,
we all thought that thirteen was quite old for a cat. I don't
remember the day she went missing. I'm not even sure what time of
year it was. At a push I would say that the air was filled with pink
blossom and the bleating of new born lambs, but I couldn't be sure.
I
was in the mood for adventure. The mooing beasts I used to terrorize
in my youth had long been moved from beyond the wire fence and so I
had to go a little farther afield. The black and white devil no
longer lived down at the farm at the bottom of the fields, so I
ventured past the dopey horse who was all hoofs and no fun and found
my way to large wooden buildings, where the mice played amongst the
hay.
Susie
just didn't come back one night for her tea. It was as dramatic as
that. We had breakfast together and when I left for school Susie
followed me down the drive, stopping to sharpen her claws on her
favourite tree. It seemed as simple as that. When I returned home
from school, she was nowhere to be found. Not asleep below her
favourite tree or in the gap between the armchair and the settee. She
wasn't in my bedroom or at the kitchen cupboard waiting for her tea.
But that was ok. She would be around somewhere. Sleeping on a
neighbours bed or trying to catch the fish in their pond.
I
crept inside. Facing the wind, small quiet footsteps, body low to the
ground, as not to be smelt, heard or seen. Edging inside, the barn
took on a new darkness and the sharp thud of wood on wood startled
any mice. I'd have to find Anthony a present elsewhere.
When
she still hadn't returned later that night we were massively
concerned. It wasn't something that had ever happened before. Susie
wouldn't miss her tea. We went outside and called her name. This
always brought her running – but not tonight. So we walked around
the neighbouring streets and the field across the road calling out
her name. We closed our eyes as we turned corners, hopeful she hadn't
met with the same fate as Candy had all those years before. She was
nowhere to be seen. But we tried not to worry. She would be back in
the morning.
I
searched the darkness for an escape route but the only way out
was
the way I had crept in. I felt for the door. In the dark all of the
wood looked the same. One endless barrier. Nothing moved in the
darkness. I pondered my next move. It's not n our nature to panic. It
was mid afternoon – a good time for a snooze. I curled myself up
into a ball at the foot of a large bail of straw and purred myself to
sleep. And the morning never came. I grew more and more hungry, more
and more thirsty but there was nothing I could do. No way out I could
find unless you were as tiny as a mouse. There was much to do but
sleep as the days streamed into one. I have no idea of how long I was
in there but it truly felt like an eternity.
Susie
was missing for 10 days. Each night we prayed she would be back in
the morning but when she had been missing for over a week, we all
started to fear the worst. There had been no sight of her and no
reason to be hopefully. I think it's true that cats want to be alone
when they die. That they disappear off into the night and never
return. It sounds kinda romantic but unless they curl up close by,
you might never no their true fate and there's nothing romantic about
that.
Finally,
after facing the indignity of eating mice droppings in an effort to
stay alive; light flooded down upon me soothing my aches and pains. Eyes closed, I darted for the middle of startled
humans legs. Heading for the fields, I made my way across the yard as
fast as my empty body would take me, back past the dopey horse, I was
homeward bound.
It
was the 10th day. I had just returned home from another school day
spend dreaming of leaving and moving away to university. I was stood
in the kitchen talking to my mum when she thought she heard a weak
meow at the front door. I thought she was imagining it – we had all
pretty much given up hope by this time. But my mum opened the door
and in wonders a furry mass of skin and bones, that headed
past our low slung jaws and waiting cuddles to the corner cupboard
where we kept her food, as though she had never been away.
(Re-told by Anthony Hett)
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