Whisky, the first meeting

Writing on 19 Sept, 2015, the day we said goodbye to Whisky:

Around this date, a cat came into my life. I was pottering in the garden and I spied a cat perched precariously on the thin fence. As with any feline visitor to my home, I tried to coax it down to say hello. It took some doing, but a b-boom and the cat had jumped down and winding around my ankles. I remember the static electricity that sparked when I stroked him. I named him "Static cat". I don't remember it being a long hello, but more of a few shoogles. This was a momentous meeting for the cat did not leave. He yowled all night outside my bedroom window to the point where Fred, myself and the neighbour upstairs had dreams about cats.

In the morning, Fred gave in and fed him sardines and some milk. We went to work and returned to find the cat still there. We invited him in. He wasn't in great shape, with fleas and worms, but someone somewhere had looked after him at some point. He had been neutered and housetrained.

In the following weeks, I walked him to the vet's a mile away, him yowling in the box the whole time ("Is it an elephant?" a passing child enquired, such was the noise!) The vet said he wasn't chipped and was about 5 years old.

I put up posters around the local area and registered him as a found cat on all the websites. I rang Cats Protection League who said that a lot of people move and leave their cats or perhaps the cat had been chased out of his territory. I never found out what his history was as his owner was never found.

We'd been worried about having a cat as we both worked full time, but this cat had chosen us and we soon adjusted to life as cat slaves. He slept on my head most nights. We had to teach him to use a cat flap and to play with string. We called him "Whisky" as he was a woos(kie) – all his life with us he's been scared of noise, from the dishwasher to the doorbell to traffic. This meant he stayed close to home and never spoke to strangers. A few lucky people managed to break the barrier, namely Simon, Fi, Heath, Mum, Dan and Bruce. I find it amazing that I managed to get him to talk to me on that day in March 2007 knowing what I know after living with him for more than eight years – such a scaredy pusskie. I feel very lucky indeed to have had the opportunity to live with such a wonderful, gentle and loving cat.

I'll now have a good sob and compile some Whisky best bits to pop on the blipday of his farewell.