A Friend Called Alfie

It was a year to the day since we lost Tiger, I knew this because Oliver told us the Barkers had been preparing for it. In fact they were going to wait to get Oliver until the year anniversary, as it seemed right, but in the end they had gone to find him a bit earlier.

Because he told us about this day, we decided to make it Tiger day. We’d had a memorial, after Tiger passed away, which I knew nothing about but we learnt to say goodbye to her, and now we were going to honour the year without her by telling her how much we missed her and loved her still. All our friends were meeting at the recreation ground.

George even asked Hana if she would come and she’d agreed. She might not like the cold, or even the outside that much but she was a good cat and a good friend to George. The only problem we had was Pickles.

‘Why can’t I come?’ he had whined as we prepared to leave.

‘You know why,’ George retorted. ‘You can’t be out without a human. We’ve had enough trouble already, what with nearly being run over, and caught at the hospital, don’t you think?’

‘It’s not fair. No matter how hard I work at being a cat I am still a dog.’

‘Life isn’t fair, my lad,’ I said kindly, shooting George a warning look. ‘But we will tell you all about it as soon as we get home.’

He turned his back on us in a sulk. Poor Pickles, it was hard for him but after all he was still only a puppy. We loved him, but there was nothing any of us could do about the ‘dogness’ of him.

We called for Hana and set off to the meeting place. I was heartened to see that everyone was there already. Dustbin and Ally had even come from the yard, which was touching. Elvis, Nellie and Rocky, my three closest Edgar Road friends, were there, even Salmon had turned up with Oliver – what a wonderful group it was.

‘Right,’ Elvis said, taking control. ‘Let’s share our favourite Tiger story, or memory, in order to honour her today,’ he said, seriously.

‘I’ll go first,’ I said. ‘Everyone knows how much I loved Tiger and how close we were. When we first met though she really didn’t like exercise, and I used to make her come for long walks with me, she would complain all the way but then she ended up liking exercise even more than I did.’ It was a simple memory but I had others which instead of sharing I wanted to keep in my heart.

‘She was my Tiger mum,’ George said. ‘And I am just proud to have had her in my life and I hope that she’s proud of me now.’

‘Oh George, she would be beyond proud of you,’ I said, through my emotions. ‘Everyone is beyond proud of you.’

‘Oh good.’ He raised his tail, and I felt that he had come such a long way lately.

We all stood solemnly as Rocky recounted how Tiger was a great bird chaser in her time, Nellie talked about the ‘girl’ chats they shared and how now she was surrounded by boys she missed that the most, Elvis said she could be really feisty when pushed, which she could be, and Salmon said how she never quite liked him and called him a ‘busybody’ – which to be fair he was. Oliver stayed quiet as did Ally, but Dustbin finished the chat.

‘I knew Tiger more through Alfie and then George than first-hand, although I did have the pleasure of meeting her a few times. But what struck me is that she embodied what being a cat was. Yes she was feisty but only really when she was protecting those she loved, she was loyal, she was fun, she was loving and kind, and she had a big heart. Tiger was an example to all of us and by following that example she will always live on through all of us.’

It was a sombre moment as we let those words sink in. Dustbin might be feral but he was incredibly wise. I felt choked, and I nuzzled Dustbin in gratitude for such a wonderful summing up of Tiger …

‘Woof woof, woof woof,’ a voice interrupted us bounding into our group. All the cats sprang back apart from Dustbin, George, Hana and I. They made quite a racket.

‘Shush, it’s alright,’ I told them. ‘It’s only Pickles.’

‘How on earth did you get out?’ George asked as Pickles wagged his tail at us.

‘I am more cat than you thought,’ he replied.

Nellie, Rocky, Oliver and Elvis started moving closer, examining him curiously.

‘Claire was in the front garden, talking to someone and so I escaped and then I ran really fast.’ Pickles sounded so proud, and George gave him a paw. ‘And I knew you came here, because I’ve been walked past it when you were here before, so I am actually a very clever cat too.’

‘High five! Good one, Pickles,’ George said, although I really didn’t think he should encourage him.

‘How many times have we told you not to go out on your own?’ I despaired.

‘But it’s too much fun,’ he argued.

‘Oh my goodness, what is going on? Bad puppy.’ Claire ran up, breathless. She clutched her stomach as if she’d been winded. We all tried to look busy. Nellie started playing with some leaves, Rocky moved to the nearest tree, Dustbin and Ally took a step back and Oliver along with Salmon hid in a bush. ‘Do you always meet here?’ Claire asked. Although we met here regularly, we were away from the road so the humans didn’t know about our patch.

‘Meow,’ I said. It didn’t hurt her to know, after all we weren’t doing anything wrong.

‘Right, you come with me.’ She picked up a wriggling Pickles and walked off. ‘See you at home,’ she said to George and me. At least this time she couldn’t blame me for Pickles’ behaviour. I was as bemused as she was, after our back gate had been turned into a fortress. George and I could squeeze under it but poor chubby Pickles …

We dispersed soon after, bizarrely a human turning up seemed to unsettle my friends more than the fact that Pickles had. They didn’t like outsiders knowing about our special place. I reassured them that Claire would be too angry with Pickles to give it too much thought and we all said our goodbyes.

‘We ought to go home, George,’ I said. ‘Pickles might need us.’

‘Yeah, he’s in big trouble. Right, Hana, we’ll drop you off, and thank you for coming.’

‘You know I’d do anything for you,’ Hana replied and we all blinked at each other.

Pickles had been told off and was sulking in his bed. Even George couldn’t cheer him up, he really was in the doghouse, excuse the pun. After all the emotion of the day, I decided to take a cat nap and enjoy the peace and quiet. I felt sorry for Pickles being in trouble, although I was secretly impressed with his earlier jail break. He really was more cat than I gave him credit for. At least when he was sulking he couldn’t get into more trouble, so I was able to sneak away and fall asleep on the sofa.

I was woken by voices, I pricked my ears up and began to open my eyes.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I heard Jonathan ask. He was home from work extra early and had been making an effort lately, work had eased off as he promised, and it was so nice to have extra time with him. Not least because he brought George and me nice treats to eat. Our house was finally a happy home again.

‘Look, Jon, it is weird but it’s also fate,’ Claire replied.

‘I don’t believe in fate,’ Jonathan replied.

‘In this case you should believe in fate. I mean the timing and everything. To think I was making all those phone calls to cat shelters when the answer was right here!’

It was quite cryptic and I had no idea what they were talking about, as I fully opened my eyes and stretched.

‘What about Alfie?’ Jonathan asked. They both looked at me and I eyeballed them back. What about me? ‘And it’s very sad, as well, of course.’

‘Alfie’ll be happy,’ Claire hissed and then directed Jonathan away. ‘We can’t talk about this in front of him.’

What on earth? Why couldn’t they talk about it in front of me, that was what they usually said when they were trying to keep things from the children. I wasn’t a child though, I was an adult. I stalked off and joined Pickles in his sulk, while we waited for Matt or Polly to come to collect him. I’d had enough drama for one day.

George and I went out that dark evening, despite the cold and the wind. We looked up at the stars, as the breeze ruffled our fur.

‘Do you think Tiger heard us today?’ George asked.

‘Yes, and I think she would be pleased that we’re friends with Oliver,’ I added.

‘Life is funny isn’t it?’ George said.

‘Yes, it is, when we lose loved ones, we have to let love guide us,’ I said, feeling sentimental.

‘And with everything that we’ve been through, with Tiger, with Harold and my hospital job, and Hana being my very best friend, I know that everyone can suffer from loneliness, and that it’s the worst thing, and the fact that I’ve never been lonely means I am the luckiest cat ever. Although I miss Tiger mum, I don’t have to be alone ever and even when I’m sad I’m not alone.’

‘And the same goes for me. I have been lonely at times, George, but never since I met you of course.’

‘So if Harold gets a cat, then we’ll be their friend too,’ George said.

‘Of course, that’s what we do, we make friends with everyone, even a dog.’ I grinned.

‘Pickles isn’t so bad. Not for a puppy anyway. Although, thank goodness Harold’s getting a cat and not a dog. But, Dad, we’ll never have to be lonely will we?’

‘No, George, never, and we will always be the lucky ones for that.’ I crossed my paws and said a prayer that this would be true.