Felix The Railway Cat

Felix was lying next to him on the desk. She gave a sleepy little yawn and stretched out, making herself comfortable. The slight movement caught Andrew’s eye and he stared at her for a little bit as she dozed on the desk companionably. Her presence made him realise: you are not alone.

He would have felt like that, otherwise. He would have felt that no one was around to help him, and that he had this insurmountable mountain to climb all by himself. But a problem shared is a problem halved, and the simple fact of Felix being in the office with him made his troubles seem suddenly lighter and more manageable. She had a soothing presence, a calming, peaceful and companionable spirit, and he found himself taking deeper breaths, in rhythm with the lazy flicking of her tail. Suddenly, the mountain didn’t seem quite so tough to climb after all.

As Andrew settled into the job, he found that Felix was always on hand whenever he needed support. He’d be getting worked up about the shunt movements – because if he got that wrong, it would result in massive, very public delays and an awful lot of money wasted – but Felix would usually be out and about on the platforms at that time, hunting down the fawn-coloured moths that were attracted by the station’s bright lights. Seeing her pounce determinedly on her prey would fill him with determination too, and he’d turn back to the complicated diagram with a new sense of purpose. As he wrote reports, she’d lie on his lap, and he’d find himself typing with one hand and stroking her with the other. Why is it taking me so long to write this? he’d wonder.

In more ways than one, Felix was the answer.

Of course, the railway cat wasn’t doing this entirely out of the goodness of her heart. It was a quid pro quo. Felix was a working cat – and she wanted paying for services rendered.

Andrew was cashing up one night in the office when he noticed Felix looking up at him from the floor and mewing.

‘Just give me a few minutes, Felix,’ he said, trying to keep track of the complex calculations in his head.

He went back to his money-counting. Gradually, Felix got closer and closer to him. She inched along the ground. She leapt lightly up onto the desk. She stood there for a little bit, miaowing, but when Andrew didn’t respond she edged forwards once again … and again … and again, as though she was playing her own version of Grandmother’s Footsteps. It finally got to the point where Andrew realised he couldn’t see anything but Felix’s fluffy face directly in front of his, completely obscuring his vision.

‘All right, cat!’ he said, giving in at last to her demands for attention. He scribbled down the figures he’d added up so far and gave her a bit of love.

‘Right, then, that’s enough for now,’ he said, a few minutes later. ‘I’ll feed you just as soon as I’ve finished cashing up, OK?’

He picked up Felix and moved her to one side, then carried on with the accounting.

Well, Felix wasn’t going to be so easily diverted as that. Patience wasn’t part of her repertoire. The white-tipped paws came out. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap … On his arm, on his shoulder, on his chest. Eventually, she sat straight up on her hind legs and put both front paws firmly on him, leaning her whole body against his. Her oh-so-persuasive pats seemed to be saying, ‘I know it’s a bit early for my supper and I know you’re in the middle of something important, but I am really rather peckish!’

And when even that didn’t work – ‘I just need one more minute, Felix,’ Andrew said pleadingly. ‘Look: I’m on the last pile!’ – she bent her head to his hand and gave it a gentle little nibble. Not with any aggression, and not to hurt him, but just to assert herself. ‘Come on, laddie,’ that nibble said. ‘Enough messing about. I’m the Boss, and when I tell you I want something doing, you do it. Understood?’

‘OK, OK!’ Andrew said, hands in the air, surrendering. He left the money on the desk and stood up.

The moment Felix saw him move, she sprinted as fast as she could to the filing cabinet. Once, its uppermost drawer had held official documents and top secrets – now, it was the cat-food drawer. It belonged to Queen Felix, and the cat knew it well. In excitement, she leapt up on top of the cabinet and stared pointedly at her drawer until Andrew opened it.

Felix purred in approval: ‘That’s more like it.’ Stiff as a board, ears to attention, she watched as he pulled out a pouch of ‘Felix’, then shadowed him into the kitchen. Only once he’d set her bowl down for her would she give him any peace. It was quite an example for the young team leader of how tenacity, commitment and determination could get results.