Alfie in the Snow

‘I fell asleep,’ Tiger said the next morning when George and I called on her. I hadn’t even opened my mouth.

‘I thought so.’

‘It was quite cold and I snuggled up with my human on the sofa, and the warmth from the fire, you know.’

‘Tiger, it’s OK, you don’t need to explain.’ Normally she didn’t offer explanations, but I didn’t say that.

‘Mum, Dad, can we go for a walk to the park?’ George asked. He had boundless energy this morning. I wished I did, but I was feeling the cold. I had an old injury which I had suffered when I first moved to Edgar Road. It was a long story involving saving Claire from a horrible relationship, and eventually bringing all of my families together, but it did leave me with a slightly bad leg which seemed to get worse and stiffen up in the cold or the rain. I mainly got on with things, I was pretty used to it by now. However, at the start of every winter I would be reminded of it.

‘Of course we can, George,’ Tiger said, nuzzling him. ‘It’s not raining, and hopefully it’ll stay dry.’

We set off and, as George hopped in front of us, I told Tiger about the new people.

‘So this cat is very pretty, is she?’ Tiger narrowed her eyes.

‘She’s unusual-looking but nearer George’s age than mine,’ I replied. Tiger did have a jealous streak, so I needed to tread carefully when talking about other cats.

‘What does George think?’ She immediately switched from sounding jealous to maternal.

‘He told me that after Chanel he’s sworn off girls for life.’ I grinned.

‘Good, because no one is good enough for my boy.’ I couldn’t have agreed more.

The park was pleasantly empty. We trailed around after George who bounded from one activity to the next. He stared for ages at his reflection in the small lake – I urged caution because when I was younger I’d done the same and nearly drowned. Then we made piles of leaves which were browning and a little soggy, but still quite fun to play with nonetheless. There were no butterflies to chase at this time of the year but George did manage to climb one of the smaller trees. By the time we headed back for lunch I was hungry, Tiger said she was tired – I swear she was getting lazier by the second – and George was still full of energy. He would only come home when I promised he would be allowed out later to the other end of Edgar Road, on his own.

It had been a hard decision to let George out alone, and I know that human parents had the same dilemma as Franceska had been through it with Aleksy and Tommy. Aleksy was a teenager now and wanted more freedom, a bit like George, but at the same time we, as parents, knew there were dangers out there. Letting go was possibly one of the hardest parenting lessons we had to face.

When George first went out alone, although he promised he wouldn’t go far, I was a bag of nerves until he came home. When he did come home I almost smothered the poor lad but I had never felt relief like it. Well, apart from the time he was catnapped and I found him, or the time he ran off after Chanel and we found him … But this was different, it was the first time he had gone out with permission.

Now he went out alone a fair bit, but never at night and never for too long. I tried to make him tell me where he was going as well, although to be fair he didn’t always seem to know. Sometimes he said he was going to the park, sometimes to see if any of the other cats were around. So far I had resisted the urge to follow him, but only just. Instead I would pace up and down or watch out of an upstairs window for his return. And thankfully he always came home and never stayed out too long. Otherwise the worry would probably have turned my fur even greyer than it already was.

So, this afternoon I thought I would catch up on some of my personal cat business. I enjoyed time alone to have a thorough grooming session – after all, when you’re a parent you always seem to be having to rush your ablutions, and then I would enjoy some thinking time. It’s hard to think when you’ve got youngsters always wanting your attention. So, as much as I worried about George, now he was more independent I was beginning to enjoy some ‘me time’ as well. I settled on Claire and Jonathan’s bed – Jonathan didn’t like me being on there, Claire didn’t mind – because it was incredibly comfortable and one of my favourite places to muse.

The front door opened, and the rush of voices and children interrupted my thinking time. I stretched, yawned and then headed downstairs where to my joy I found my families all together in the kitchen. George was hopping among them.

‘Oh hi, Alfie,’ Tommy said, coming over to pet me. I saw a number of fat pumpkins on the kitchen table. Ah, of course, it was the weird thing that humans celebrated called Halloween.

‘I want to carve my pumpkin all on my own,’ Summer said. Claire looked terrified and I agreed. The idea of Summer with a knife was not good.