YOUR STORIES (1)

Caitlin’s story, from Anastasia.

About 12 years ago I had a Birman named Caitlin, extremely nervous. Very much a one-woman cat, who wouldn't let anyone but me touch her. She and her daughter Megan became rather famous, as they regularly sat upright together in the sitting-room window, looking just like a pair of Staffordshire china dogs. Caitlin would never go outside at all, except to nip quickly, creeping on her belly, to use the nearest flower-bed.

Then some noisy workmen embarked on lengthy work on the exterior of the cottage next door, which greatly distressed Caitlin, and one day she disappeared. We searched exhaustively, but with no success. Two years and two months later, I was walking along a road less than a quarter of a mile away, and suddenly found her at my feet!

But what had happened to her in the meantime?

The history of Caitlin was harrowing. She seemed to have some premonition that she was going to be separated from me, as she would even dive under my duvet at night, scrabbling at my rib cage and (presumably!) trying to get inside for safety!
When I found her at my feet, I went to a guest house near by, which was run by the owner, living on his own. He said that Caitlin had arrived hungry at the back door, but by no means could he or any of his of his neighbours manage to catch her. The guest house wasn't licensed for pets, so he couldn't have her indoors, and she lived on a large woodpile, sheltered by only a corrugated iron roof, through two bitter winters. The man was feeding her twice a day (on a much more luxurious diet than she had received at home!) and neighbours had been giving her titbits.

I don't blame the man at all - indeed was grateful - as I don't see what else he could have done Caitlin was a rare seal-tabby point Birman and she certainly looked a million dollars - if he had advertised for her owner she would inevitably have been 'claimed' by someone show wanted to steal her. And at that date (though I am told not now) cats really were being stolen for their skins - for example, seven gingers would disappear within a week or so from Kidlington, followed by nine tabbies from Kennington - horrible!

But the story didn't have an entirely happy ending. When I found Caitlin she didn't recognise me and fled in terror. Repeated attempts at getting near her failed. I could have asked for expert help from one of the welfare organisations, but it wasn't really the answer. If I had taken her home she would simply have been terrified and bent on escape. An additional factor was her daughter Megan (Caitlin had been about equally attached to Megan and me). Megan loved people and welcomed all visitors (including those who disliked cats) but she would leap in a ball of fury on top of any cat which set a paw in HER garden, and it seemed nearly certain that she wouldn't tolerate Caitlin's return. After a very difficult time of reflection I decided that I mustn't fall into being anthropomorphic, and that sadly it was in her best interests to leave her where she was and to underwrite any future vets bills. She was in superb condition and was certainly receiving a delicious diet, so she at least had some quality of life...