I‘m drawn to cats. Mysterious and aloof, even the most affectionate cats seem to have a secret life. They’re true explorers. Their agility is as breathtaking as their silent steps surprise.
Millie is special. She belongs to my friend Christine who co-runs the Cataholics cat rescue charity in Newmarket. When I was painting Christine’s conservatory I was introduced to Millie and her brother Barney. Within seconds I was besotted with this dainty black cat.
Millie was found abandoned. The runt of the litter, she had four legs but just three paws. The vet removed the leg as the stump would cause problems in the future. This gave Millie extra vorsprung durch. This nimble cat is no lumbering Reliant Robin. She moves with the swiftness of a streamlined motor bike and side car.
I was delighted when I opened Christine’s front door and spotted Millie sitting on the stairs. Initially she watched my progress from a distance (decorating the hall, landing and stairs this time). Her slim neck was exercised by following the progress of my brush. Then she vanished. I turned a few minutes later and discovered to my horror that my tall wooden step ladder had taken her fancy. She was standing on the landing stage at the top, poised to jump.
I shot down the stairs and carefully lifted Millie down. Her fur was like silk. Within seconds she was climbing deftly up the steps again and defiantly leapt into the oblivion of the staircase. Safer than a computer operated space probe, she landed perfectly. So I let her amuse herself with the step ladder. There was a reverse journey too – stairs to landing stage and then down the steps.
When I was making a cup of tea she stood at my feet and meowed, a plaintive yet piercing cry. I couldn’t resist picking her up and giving her a cuddle. This was a big mistake.
At first she lay nearby observing me, happy with on occasional tummy rub. But then she got braver moving nearer and nearer until finally she dived in between my loaded brush and the skirting. I now had a black and white companion cat.
Millie now spends her days elsewhere. Far away from the paint pots and the possibility of zebra fancy dress. She returned home briefly this evening. I noticed a sheet of newspaper, being tugged under the door into the sitting room I peeped through the glass. There was Millie on her back underneath the newspaper. She shifted the paper with her front legs and gazed back at me from the shadow of her tent. Inquisitive, acrobatic and totally seductive. I lifted my brush in homage.
Leave a reply