Greetings humans, my name is Charlie, I am nine and a half years old and the human, Paula, is my servant. As you can see by my picture, she is a very well trained human, and caters for my every whim, thus making me a very happy cat.
I first encountered Paula in June 2001 when she moved into my territory. My existing servant was terrible, he wouldn't let me into the house, I was poorly with a constantly upset tummy and he wouldn't take me to a vet. He also used to beat and kick me and I was very unhappy. Paula was kind to me and used to fuss me and scratch me round the ears, which made me very happy. I was pretty much homeless and had to find food where I could and try and find somewhere warm and dry to sleep at nights. I was sick and stressed and groomed myself all the time to try and make myself feel better. Eventually, in October 2001, Paula contacted the RSPCA and arranged to be my new human servant.
The first thing Paula did was take me to the vet to have me vaccinated and checked over. I had fleas, and as I'm allergic to their bites, my beautiful, long fur was starting to fall out. So Paula put some stinky stuff on the back of my neck a few times to get rid of them. The vet said that I couldn't possibly have been homeless as my coat was so well groomed and that there was absolutely nothing wrong with me, but I still had an upset tummy. It must be said though that my new accomodation was far superior to the old. It was warm and dry, I had a whole bedroom to myself and a double bed to sleep on, I could bring all my cat mates round when the humans were asleep and party until morning when Paula would tell them to leave. I had plenty of good food and fresh water and could come and go as I pleased and I had this nice servant to fuss me whenever I wanted her to. We lived on the edge of a small town and there were lots of open fields for me to hunt in. Life couldn't have been better.
Then one day in August 2004 I noticed some strange activity. Lots of boxes were appearing and everything was being packed. One box in particular really disturbed me though, the carry case! I thought that perhaps I was being taken back to the vets but I wasn't. I was taken on a very long, unpleasant train journey. I was terrified the whole time and the only comfort was knowing that Paula was right at my side and kept reassuring me that everything would be allright. When we finally got off the train we were in Glasgow, a big, grey, scary place with very different smells to what I was used to. Where was the sun? Where was the grass? Why was it always raining? We went to live with Paula's mum for a while, and when we got there I hid behind the big box that makes the pictures for nearly a week. I was frightened, my whole world had been turned upside down but I still had my human. She gave me lots of love and reassurance and eventually I ventured out from my hiding place and started to explore my temporary new home. It was nice and Paula's mum was kind to me but I don't really like other humans. I mean I like MY human, she's like a pet to me but one's quite enough as humans are really very strange creatures. After a little while though I started to get restless and wanted to go out but found I wasn't allowed to any more. So one day I jumped onto the window sill to have a look at my new territory and to see if the window was open. The view was very different and I really didn't like the look of it very much, too many humans and way too many of the big, noisy, smelly machines that humans use to save them using their legs. So, I decided that I was just going to stay in from then on. I had lots more time to spend with Paula getting fussed and I started to sleep on her bed at night as I didn't have my own any more. What had I been missing? I would get fussed to sleep every night and used to drop off with my chin resting in Paula's hand and my purring used to help her to fall asleep too. Absolute bliss.
However my tummy trouble hadn't gone away, so Paula had to take me to another vet. He was much nicer and ran lots of tests on me, which I didn't mind too much as I knew he was trying to help me. Eventually I was admitted and had to have an operation to remove a really big furrball (the size of a hamster) from my tummy. That helped a bit but something was still wrong. I'm a big, handsome boy and normally weigh around 6kg but I was getting very thin, so it was back to the vets for more tests and prodding. We were told that I had something called Imflammatory Bowel Disease and that I had to go on a special hypoallergenic cat food as my body can't process ordinary cat food. I was also put on special pills called Steroids and now my tummy is all better. I have to go back to see the vet every three months for a check up but I don't really mind as I like my vet, he's a 'cat person' and he doesn't do anything nasty to me, except he sometimes has to clip bits of my fur off. Since I've become a housecat, I don't look after my coat the way I used to ( who can be bothered, yawn), and I really don't like to be brushed. Paula trys but I swear at her and bite her and the only way to get her to stop is if I hide under the dining chairs and glare at her. She's a good servant in many ways but has a tendancy to overstep her mark every now and then and needs putting in her place.
In September 2005, Paula and I moved into our own place. It really wasn't very nice and it was in a bad area but I didn't have to go out in it. It's just as well, the things I used to see from that window sill really didn't endear me to humans. We were there for eighteen months and the only good thing about that time was that Paula got me a girl cat, Cassie as company. Cassie's very sweet but she was frightened of me and wouldn't come out from under the bed for two weeks, she even ate her dinner under the bed. It took a long time but we are now friends. She won't let me snuggle up to her and she hits me if I try but she will wash my face for me and she's started to allow me to wash hers. In February 2007, we all moved to a new flat in a slightly better area. I still can't go out but I don't mind anymore, at least the view from the window's a bit better. I am very happy with Cassie and now have Paula well trained. I get fed three times a day, at exactly the same times, or else! I have a clean litter tray, cat grass to munch on and fusses on demand. I can sleep wherever I like as Paula has come to realise that the furniture is all mine, the bed, the sofa and even the nice, comfy stool she bought for sitting at the computer, which is good as I like sleeping a lot. I don't play very much but my favourite ping-pong ball is close at hand in case the mood takes me. I sometimes play with Cassie, but she's far too fast for me, and even though she's a small-fry compared to me, she wrestles me to the ground like a professional. Sometimes she can be quite a bully, but then again she IS a female.The only way to deal with her is to find a good hiding place so that I can ambush her as she speeds past but as I'm so big, it's not easy to find a place where she won't see me. I sometimes try to squash myself into places that are much too small for me, much to the amusement of the servant. She really is quite intolerable at times. The indignities us cats have to put up with, she's lucky I love her so much.
I've started to tolerate other humans a bit more too. I will now let them stroke me (a bit), although I do still glare at them in a superior, just to remind them who's boss. I occasionally let Paula have a couple of weeks off to go on holiday and when she's away, her brother comes in to feed us and fuss us. I really didn't like this human at first but he does an adequate job in Paula's absence so I'm trying to be nicer to him, for her sake.
I look back at my old life and can't really believe the change in my luck. It's no more than I deserve of course, being the fabulously handsome and superior cat that I am. I'm happy and healthy and adored by my pet human/servant. In fact I think I'll go and give her a fuss right now, just to let her know that she's appreciated. It's always good to keep the staff happy, after all.
