Alfie in the Snow

‘Tiger mum was my mum,’ George started. I swear there wasn’t a dry whisker in the area. ‘And she was a good mum. She loved me, she protected me. She let me climb trees when my dad didn’t, and she took me on adventures. I think she was probably the best mum a cat could have, and I didn’t want to say goodbye but my dad said we had to, and sometimes in life we had to do what we didn’t want to do, so there was no choice, and I knew he was right. But I didn’t want to lose my Tiger mum, and I just hope she knows how much I loved her, how important she was to me and how I will never stop missing her.’

‘Oh George,’ I said. ‘That was beautiful.’ He nodded, solemnly, and laid down the toy mouse for his mum. Nellie rubbed her eyes with her paws. No one had failed to be moved by George as they all told him how well he’d done.

And then all eyes were on me. I took a breath. I needed to do justice to Tiger, but also I had to do this for George and I guess for me too.

‘So much has already been said about Tiger,’ I began. ‘And it’s been so heart-warming to hear how much she was loved. She was funny, feisty, yes, definitely, and loyal. Tiger was my first real friend on Edgar Road. I remember how I made her come for walks with me when she didn’t want to – she was lazy and spoilt back then – but she soon found her adventurous side, and to be honest, soon became far more adventurous than me. She stood by me, even when she didn’t always want to, she was the dearest, kindest cat ever, and to say I’ll miss her will be a huge understatement. She was always there with a kind word, or a joke to cheer me, she would tell me off when I was behaving badly, or being annoying. She saved me on a number of occasions and, without her by my side, I feel as if I am half the cat I was before. But I know she will always be by my side, if not literally, and when I carry on with life, which at the moment feels impossible – but I know I will – I will remember her always. Tiger, no one wants to say goodbye to you but wherever you are be happy and know how very loved you are, and how loved you will always be.’

I stopped, exhausted, to find myself flanked by Dustbin on one side and George on the other. I let their warmth comfort me, as the other cats all began their cats’ chorus in honour of Tiger. By the way, cats’ chorus is probably not the best way to describe the horrible noise that came out of them, but it was well meant. We cats have never been known for melodic singing. But I hoped that it would bring a smile to Tiger’s lips wherever she was and I looked up to the sky, raising my whiskers to the heavens and saying a silent goodbye. Yet again.

No one wanted to rush off, so we spent a pleasant afternoon in the cold, all huddled up to keep warm, lots of the older cats doing their best to cheer George up. Everyone was being kind to each other; even Salmon was upset and he never got emotional.

‘Bad times, bad times, Alfie,’ he repeated. I knew for him that was a lot. So as we shivered and nuzzled and basked in the glow of friendship that was around, I found some sort of peace. Sad, yes, but also it was good to see how much Tiger meant to everyone and to feel how much we all meant to each other. I knew that the coming days, months, years even, would be hard for us, George and I especially, but today, there was comfort of sorts and I took a mental picture so I could conjure it up whenever I needed to.

‘George,’ I said, gently. My fractured relationship with my son was still a little bit of a see-saw. One minute he was glad of my company, my love, the next he rejected it. I knew this was what I would have to bear for now, until he was ready to talk, or for our relationship to go back to how it was. No, that wasn’t right, it would never fully go back to how it was, I knew that. It would always be different now, without Tiger, but I would wait until he was ready for us to move on to our next phase and hopefully that wouldn’t take too long.

‘Yes?’ he replied.

‘Would you like to go home? Warm up? Take a nap?’ I knew I was fussing but then that was what parents did and I was now a single parent. That thought struck me so hard that it almost winded me. I was going to be doing this on my own from now on.

‘No, I have to go,’ he stated.

‘Where?’ I asked. ‘Can I come with you?’

‘Dad,’ he sighed. ‘I need to be alone, just give me some space.’ It wasn’t a request and he said goodbye to the other cats and started walking in the opposite direction of our house. I knew he was probably going to his ‘jungle’ and the old man and I had to let him, but I also felt I needed to find out more about what he did there. I had only seen the one time when the man seemed angry, and I resolved that I would talk to him about it, later, I would get him to tell me exactly what he was up to there, after all that was what any responsible parent would do. Like it or not, I might be grieving, broken-hearted, exhausted, but first and foremost I was a parent and I needed to parent more than ever now.