It’s five years tonight since I brought MasterB home from Brighton. His previous owners had called him Facebook, and although they loved him, their care of him had not included flea prevention, with the result that he was alive with them. Never have I seen so many fleas in my life. Here’s how I acquired him.
That first night, he was confined to the bathroom with its hard floors, and that remained his domain for two days by which time the fleas were history. He got his first real taste of his new life when he came with me to Mother’s and began to learn about The Great Outdoors. Tonight he is curled up on a chair, the established cat not only of my home, but also of this block of flats. He is safe, he is loved, he is healthy.
Some of you will remember that when I got him, I didn’t really want him. Well that changed pretty quickly. I tell him he is worth more than gold. I hope he feels the same about me, although I think if it were toss up between me and biscuits, he might be torn.
I’m off out in a minute or two to join some neighbours at the pub. I think I’ll propose a toast to my boy; a sweet polite cat, who I am very lucky to have.