Charlie the Kitten Who Saved a Life

Mr Caswell? Who the fox’s backside was Mr Caswell? I couldn’t imagine how he could be anyone kind. If these human catnappers had been genuinely on my side, they’d have been taking me straight to Julian! Anyone else could only be plotting to do me harm. Surely it couldn’t be true what Big had been screaming to me? Were they going to roast me and eat me with ketchup? Oh my ears and whiskers! I wriggled and wriggled, yowling and spitting at Shirley as she carried me up some steps into a building that smelt … it smelt like … what was that smell? What was the memory it was bringing back to me? It was making me shudder, would have made my fur stand on end and my muscles quiver, if only there was room for that to happen inside my tight bundle. We went through a door into an empty room with a bare floor and some hard empty chairs around the walls. The smell in here was almost overpowering. And just then, another door opened and out came a dog – -fortunately, attached to a human by one of those long straps they need to keep them under control – and immediately, it all came flooding back to me. I knew where we were! For catnip’s sake, they’d brought me to a vet!

Can you imagine how much I was wriggling and hissing and spitting now? Shirley almost dropped me twice, and Jean had to help her to hang onto me.

‘Let me go,’ I growled. And to the dog, who was sniffing around their feet, trying to jump at their legs to get a closer look at me, I shouted: ‘Bugger off, you big stupid snarling piece of rat’s poo, you!’

I know, I know, my language was pretty awful. It was the influence of the feral boys, you see, together with the terror of my situation. I couldn’t help it. But I don’t speak like that anymore, now I’m back in civilisation, obviously, so please don’t let the little kittens here copy me.

‘Down, boy!’ the dog’s human was trying to persuade him. ‘You’re frightening the poor cat. Sorry, ladies,’ he said to my captors. ‘That’s a feisty little feline you’ve got there!’

‘Oh, he’s not ours,’ Jean said. ‘We think he’s a feral, although we did wonder if he might be a stray – the one who’s been advertised in all the shops and cafés. We’re hoping the vet can scan him, even if just to rule it out.’

‘No!’ I shrieked, trying to get my teeth into Shirley’s wrist. ‘I know what vets do – I’m not stupid! He’ll stick a needle in me! It’ll put me to sleep! I’ll never wake up!’

And just at that moment, the other door opened again and out came a tall male human in a white coat.

‘Hello,’ he said to the females. ‘Have you got an appointment?’

‘No,’ Jean said, still trying to help Shirley to hang onto me. She could hardly make herself heard above my yowling. ‘Sorry, Mr Caswell, it’s kind of an emergency.’

‘Has he been hurt or something?’ said the male, peering down at me. I spat in his face.

‘No, we’ve found him,’ Shirley said. ‘Well, he actually found us! We did wonder whether he might be the missing cat that’s in all the posters around town. I hope so, anyway, now we’ve gone to all this trouble,’ she added with a little laugh. ‘Although he’s been so feisty on the way here, I’m beginning to think he is a feral after all.’

‘Oh yes, I’ve got one of those posters up myself,’ the vet said, still staring at me. ‘His owner, a Mr Smythe, came in to tell me about him. The cat was on the BBC News, apparently – chased a seagull, or something?’

‘That’s right. Do you think it’s him, Mr Caswell?’ Jean asked.

‘I doubt it, to be honest. As you say, this cat seems half wild. Let’s have a look at him, anyway, shall we? Bring him through. I’ll get Ginny to help me hold him still. We’re going to need our gloves on, I think!’

And so, as the human with the dog went out, calling, ‘Good luck. I hope it is the missing cat,’ I was carried through to the next room. In here, the smell reminded me so strongly of my previous experiences with vets that I nearly fainted. I was unwrapped onto one of those slippery, shiny tables, where I was forcibly held down by Mr Caswell on one side, and a young female in a white coat on the other. I’d stopped yowling now. I was so sick with fear, I’d kind of retreated inside myself and just lay panting, waiting for the end of my lives.