Charlie the Kitten Who Saved a Life

I couldn’t believe it! I’d have thought I could rely on Caroline, at least, to be sympathetic, but it seemed I’d just become a figure of fun. But she was right, of course. By the next day I’d adapted to the collar and eventually even gave in with a good grace to the fact that I was locked indoors. And who did I have to thank for my acceptance of the situation? Well, the same sensible older cat who’d given me the benefit of his advice and experience all my life. Yes, my friend Oliver, of course.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

I’ll tell everyone what happened, shall I, Ollie? Unless you want to take over? No? Oh, you think I’m doing a good job of telling my story, for a little kitten who’s never done any public meowing before? Well, that’s very kind, thank you. I learned from the best! Although I keep reminding you, I’m not a little kitten anymore. Look at me. I’m fully grown, and you must admit now you’re hearing my story, I’ve got even more experience of life now than you have. But I suppose, to you, I’ll always be little kitten, won’t I?

Well, everyone, as you know, Oliver has always taken a special interest in me and looked after me. I know I have a real father, but tell me – where is he, eh? Where’s old Tabby when I’m telling my story to the rest of the village cats? Exactly! He’s never around. He’s probably off somewhere chasing some young female. I don’t mind; that’s just the way he is, and it was nice that Oliver took on the role of mentoring me, and my sisters here, instead. I’ve always looked up to him as an example of how to be a good cat. So when I disappeared, naturally Ollie was worried. Apparently he kept on coming to the Big House, looking for me, meowing around the outside of the house, but at first, of course, nobody was there because we were all at our holiday home in Mudditon. And then, apparently, one day he turned up at the house and found that the rest of the family were back home, but not me. He was more worried than ever then. One day Caroline heard him meowing outside, and let him in. As you know, my family love Oliver – almost, but not quite, as much as they love me. He’s told me that Caroline was crying as she stroked him, saying I’d got lost and it was all her fault. Ollie was very upset to hear this, and apparently he went back to the Big House several times after that, to see whether I’d returned.

That day, after my first uncomfortable night’s sleep wearing the horrible collar, I was eating my breakfast and having a moan to myself at the same time about the awkwardness of eating with that thing on, when I heard a familiar meow outside the kitchen door. I left my food for a minute and trotted over to look through the cat flap, and I nearly fell over with excitement. Ollie was outside, calling to me through the flap. I can’t tell you how pleased I was to see him, and I think he was even more excited to see me because he proceeded to shout at the top of his voice and paw at the locked flap.

‘What on earth’s going on?’ Laura said, coming into the kitchen, because I was now making almost as much noise as Ollie was, and pawing at the cat flap from inside too. ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘Hello, Oliver! I suppose you want to come in and play with your friend now he’s back. Hang on a minute and I’ll let you in.’

With which she picked me up and held on to me while she unlocked the flap. As Ollie jumped through, she put me back down and I was so excited, I ran around the room madly, knocking into two chairs and the side of the fridge with the stupid collar.

‘You’re back,’ he meowed at me. ‘I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

‘I know, I’ve been lost, and living rough, and – oh my tail and whiskers, it’s so good to see you! I’ve got so much to tell you about.’

‘So it seems.’ He stared at me. ‘I’d like to rub faces with you, but what you’re wearing makes that a tad difficult. And I have to say, you’re not looking too good. You’ve lost weight, haven’t you? And what’s happened to your eye?’

‘It’s a long story. But first, can you tell me how I can get this dratted thing off? It’s driving me mad. I keep bashing into things, and they won’t let me go outside. Maybe if you could chew the edge, there, or get your claw in between the collar and my neck …?’

Oliver looked at me seriously for a moment.

‘Did the vet put it on you? Have you had some kind of operation done?’

‘Well, yes, he did something to my bad leg, see? It’s still a bit sore but I think it’s getting better now.’

‘Exactly, Charlie. It’s getting better because of whatever the vet did, and they only make us wear those collars to help us get better. So you need to keep it on.’

‘Whose side are you on?’ I said sulkily. ‘I thought I could rely on you to help me.’

‘No. You can rely on me to tell you what you need to know. Don’t you trust your humans anymore? Was it their fault you got lost, or what?’