Image: Copyright Chiromancer
The cat – as with so many things this year – arrived in an unexpected way. The Belgian and I were enjoying a late-evening aperitif and some ‘hapjes’ (a.k.a. bar snacks) – when a skinny creature made it’s approach, miaowing plaintively.
Since we were living in two places and I was working in a third, pets were not on the agenda. We had only just had a funeral for the gerbil so I really didn’t need another crash course in pet care for step-parents!
‘Do not feed the cat!’ I was instructed. Which of course, I was compelled to ignore. Surely a small and surreptitious snack would not do any harm? ‘He won’t leave’ The Belgian muttered. And he was right…the next night the cat arrived for another late night bite. Clearly the cat was domesticated, so he must be someone’s pet. ‘If he is here again, I’m going to take him to the animal shelter’ said my husband, darkly.
Instead, he took the cat to the vet, got him micro-chipped, vaccinated and issued with a pet passport so he could travel. The Belgian is nothing if not kind-hearted, and that is why I married him! We named the cat Watson. He purrs louder than a tractor, and since his batteries must have been removed in one of his previous 9 lives, sleeps 18 hours per day. He is of course, totally perfect for us.
Sometimes in life, you get what you need, but it’s not necessarily what you thought you wanted. Thanks Watson, for being one of the good things in 2016.
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