The Mysterious Black Cat

More of those mysterious coincidences that you hang onto. Some people read more into this than I do, I just recount them here because they are an important part of the grief process.

We have four cats; Morris, Buzz, Gus and Ziggy. The first three are pure black cats, the latter a grey British Shorthair. We had one previous cat named simply Puss-Puss who had arrived at our old home in strange circumstances. At the time I was highly allergic to cats and, in fact, Gail had to give away her pets when we moved in together. Something which, incidentally, didn’t seem much to me at the time but which took on greater significance later in our relationship. In fact, giving her beloved cats up to live with me must have been enormously difficult for her and it’s not something I would do now for anyone.

Puss-Puss subsequently bought another cat back to live with us – again odd circumstances, but something to which Gail put more significance on than I did – we became, astonishingly considering my health issues previously, a two-cat family. For when Puss sadly died from old age, a small cats home had sprung up in an attempt to replace him and, by July 2019, we had the aforementioned four cats.

Anyway, with the weather in Britain glorious all summer I had the back patio doors opened when the following occurred.

Beware everyone! I’m about to become one of those social media loonies

When Puss-Puss turned up in what was admittedly very strange circumstances (too long to relate here) in 2000, Gail always insisted he was sent by her Mum who had passed away earlier that year. When Puss-Puss brought Morris back – in more odd circumstances – when we moved to Colchester, Gail insisted it was her Grandfather who had died a few months before. I should add that at this I usually rolled my eyes and went somewhere quiet.

I was sitting downstairs today when Buzz started howling at Morris sitting on the floor in front of me. “What you doing Buzz? It’s only Morris” I said. Then I realised Morris was on an adjacent chair and so was Gus. A quick head count revealed I had four black cats in front of me instead of the requisite three I own.

I’ve fed the stranger, had a far-too-early stiff drink and gone to lie down as I’m starting to feel very odd.

Puffy, as I was to learn later, became a frequent visitor over the coming months.

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