Ahh little cat

It was 2017 that Pickle came into my existence and broke a lifelong aversion to having the responsibility to look after a living thing. Hubert the frog, I suppose, and sealing up all the holes in the bathroom so he could leap around and help himself to the crickets in the bath, although I stopped that when the crickets got into the overflow and one of them popped out while I was bathing. He was only ever temporary custody, even though the best live cricket vendor is still a saved seller on my eBay… Mostly though my life had been pet free up until Pickle. A couple of childhood budgies, and dogs that lasted a day or so before being returned. Neither myself nor my parents before me wanted to be pinned down by a living thing to look after. They were pissed off enough about me being so damn expensive.

Pickle proved to be an extremely relaxed and patient companion. She fitted in very well and bonded to me, and I to her. But when Brian moved out it made sense she went to him, and I got back from an American tour to find myself catless. COVID brought me a snake, Hex, now with Flavia, and a temporary Mao – twitchy pissy old pirate Mao. I started to understand how a pet makes a home, even if I made no move towards changing my lifestyle to accommodate one full time. They’re still better for me if they aren’t mine, but I’m very much plugged into little Tessy’s existence in Brighton – she’s the reason I can’t get Lou to come and help me get this flat straight. But … I had a chance to get Brian on the case today. He needed some things moved to his place in Croydon so I took them, carried them up to the flat, and saw Pickle for the first time in ages. Then we drove to mine and hoiked absurdly heavy boxes into Bergman until there was no more room. They’ll go to the lockup tomorrow. There’s more space in the spare room now. Progress.

She knew me alright, little older Pickle. “Where the fuck have you been?” We hung out for a bit. It was emotional. Bless her little face. She probably thought I had got lost somewhere. I’m glad she knows I exist again now, as I’m sure cats do all sorts of mystic work on our behalf. Hopefully she’ll make it not rain tonight, as I could use a good night’s sleep.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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