I understand that I was something called a “feral” cat. I am not sure about my parentage, but I like to think that my mother looked like me, white with black smudges all over. Some six years ago I was adopted by a park ranger and his wife, and thought my luck had changed and I was going to live in a nice cottage in the country where I would have complete freedom and comfort.
Well, how wrong can a cat be?! Firstly, I had to share the accommodation with a couple of those "dog" mites. Neither of them presented a threat, as they were not much bigger than me, and I am known for my slenderness and alluring looks so they mostly left me alone. On the plus side, there was a lovely wood burning stove to keep me warm!
Things went well – the humans fed me basic food, and in my rambling around the park I supplemented with some tasty mice and the odd bird. But then my world turned upside-down, when the "dog mad" couple decided to adopt another mutt and this one thought he would take over from me as leader of the household! No sir, that was not going to happen, so I decided to make alternative living arrangements for myself, to avoid all the barking.
During my time at the cottage, I took the odd walk next door to the riding centre. I did not like those huge four legged things (apparently they're called "horses"), but at least they did not keep trying to chase or bark at me. At the same time I started to befriend a number of the humans, which is an essential part of cat nature, as you never know if you can find a better home than the one you're in.
It was through spending the odd day at the riding centre, I discovered a real easy touch named Val. She gave me the odd piece of meat or cheese from her sandwich and even put down a nice soft coat or jumper for me to have a rest, which was far better than the cottage - how could I possibly have a good sleep with all those noisy and smelly dogs?!
I still went back to the cottage – but realised as far as I was concerned the owners' days were numbered. I spent more and more time at the Arrow and found another human called Ken, who was another one who liked to spoil me. Gradually I wormed my way in further into the hearts of the humans around the Arrow, and even found some nice heaters to lay on when it was cold. They even started to buy me proper meals, and this was the start of a new life for me.
Later my previous owner came to visit Ken and suggested that as I spent so much time at the Arrow, they should adopt me. Well, strictly speaking no one ever owns a cat, but I don't complain as long as I get the odd treat and cuddle. My old owner also brought over the last of the cottage's supply of cat biscuits, but who needs them when your new owners buy you IAMS!