A tale without an ending – about a feral cat I once knew named, ‘Dobby’.

‘Givin’ my sister’s pair of Whippets the evils!’  Dobby in her prime was never a feline to be messed with – just like her mother! I once caught sight of Dobby’s mother – a ‘Grace Jones’ of a cat! I remember how she fiercely hissed at me from behind a stack of wood then disappeared. She was tortoiseshell in colour with amazing facial bone structure and the most unforgettable amber eyes EVER which were huge like the rest of her – but I only saw her the once.

Yesterday, Friday 24th May 2019 – will be forever etched on my conscience – as the day I gave my cat Dobby away; only time will tell whether I did the right thing by Dobby. 

Dobby and I have lived together in the same house for fifteen years – ever since I found her as a feral kitten mewing in distress – trapped between towering stacks of old railway sleepers at a timber reclamation yard; Dobby was five weeks old then, a scrap of a thing with sticky eyes——and the rest is history as they say…

One of a litter of feral kittens – I was later to discover Dobby was the sole survivor – the others all perished from disease, malnourishment – and rat attack.

Exploring her new environment – her patch for the next fifteen years…

Run over by a motorbike – and hit by a car in separate incidents – Dobby is definitely a cat that has used up several of her nine lives to date – she’s a born survivor though. Only recently she came back from the dead – after she lost the use of her back legs – and smelled like a dead cat for several days. We thought she had gone off to die like cats sometimes mysteriously do – but she miraculously made it home covered in tiny slugs after missing for thirty-six hours – preferring to spend her dying hours in her favourite room…By night she slept by the wood-burner and by day she lay in her basket in the garden – warmed by the Winter Sun——as February this year was unseasonably warm. Kept going with regular teaspoonfuls of water by mouth, Dobby miraculously lapped her way back to life – regaining the use of her back legs and her appetite! Seemingly she returned with a stronger constitution than she’d had before the ‘deep sleep’ that lasted about a week had done her good. 

2015. Dobby and her little friend ‘Mango’ from next door – who was sadly run over and killed aged about one – happens all too often these days when you’re a cat living on a busy road 🙁

Yesterday, I came downstairs to several pools of blood on the floor – pools relative to Dobby’s size that is——little bright red puddles here and there on the flagstones and tiles – but never the carpet; Dobby was always an exceptionally clean, house-trained cat! As one who witnessed their own father hemorrhage on two occasions——and then cleaned up the aftermath – Dobby’s blood loss was nothing too shocking – but it was definitely a reality check to seek professional advice; as Dobby’s very life-blood was now on the floor.

And so Dobby journeyed back to within half-a-mile from where she was born – with a visit to our local veterinary surgery. Seemingly none the worse after her car journey——or blood loss – Dobby was surprisingly active on the consultation table – and that was my dilemma – what to do? The vet was pretty certain she was suffering from a condition called ‘Hyperthyroidism’ which is treatable but ongoing for life and therein prohibitively costly——in my circumstances that is. My monthly outgoings are just about stretched to their limit just now – so the alternative was a one-off payment to have her humanely put to sleep – which after nursing her back from the brink of Death only a couple months earlier seemed particularly unfair – to a cat that wasn’t ready to give up on herself.

‘There was a Light still on.’  Dobby on death’s door February 2019.

As one who has been at the head-end of two old horses riddled with arthritis – as they ‘crashed out of this world’ after lethal injection – I’m not a person that normally balks at the idea of euthanasia. To say nothing of the day when I held my beloved old dog ‘Ebbie’ as he too was put humanely to sleep… 

And so to the third, surprise alternative…to sign her over to the vet for ‘re-homing’ – as in the vet offered Dobby a life-line——by offering to give her a new home herself – Dobby had suddenly, unexpectedly landed on her feet again! I’ve always thought of Dobby as a lucky cat – just hope I didn’t give my luck away yesterday – certainly feels a bit like it today. I went to the vets prepared that it was possibly time to let Dobby go – but when it came to it – I couldn’t deny Dobby a chance to live.

Before the start of Dobby’s new life – Dobby had asked to go out – so I opened the door and let her out. She poddled over the road to the gap in the wall opposite – and was gone for a couple hours before she returned home. She was sprawled out on the sun-warmed concrete in the back yard when I caught up with her – whiskers twitching——listening to the sparrows chattering and chirping away in the garden – the very sparrows she once would of pounced on – but they’ve grown used to her feeble ways now and showed no fear.

The agreement of signing her over to the vet – is that I won’t know how Dobby responds to treatment unless she dies – which won’t be for several years I hope – not months, weeks, days, hours…it’s the only update I need to know for myself and the vet agreed to let me know. Dobby is Marcella’s now and I respect that – and besides, having a vet for an owner has got to be a dream come true for any cat!Marcella told me that she loves cats especially – and I could see that; she certainly had a way with ‘my’ Dobby. She told me that she had a whole family of re-homed cats – and that was the thing…

I’d been unexpectedly given a choice – of sending Dobby to ‘Cat Heaven’ – which I can’t be sure even exists – or sending her to a ‘Cat Heaven’ which DOES exist where an administering cat angel called, ‘Marcella’ will give her the very best shot at a new lease of life IF the treatment works. 

I said my quick ‘goodbye’ – voluntarily settled-up for Dobby’s blood to be tested for ‘Hypothyroidism’ plus consultation – then exited the surgery——and Dobby’s life; like the vet said there was no going back. 

In the ‘cold’ light of a new day – I can’t help have my doubts about the decision I made yesterday. Dobby’s mental well-being barely crossed my mind when I signed her over – it was a decision made in the moment, weighed up by Dobby’s physical decline and the ongoing cost of treating it. When I got back home – I couldn’t help think about what I had done – was I right to uproot her from all that was familiar and from the people she trusted – most namely me? 

The space under the fireside chair where her basket was til yesterday – looks empty now and fills me with pangs of guilt – but there is also strange solace in knowing that it’s just empty rather than ‘Dobby-shaped empty’ – which was my alternative option.

I hope for Dobby’s sake that she forgets me soon —–like yesterday – and the quirky house that’s been her home for fifteen years. I of course won’t ever forget ‘Dobby-Do’. Fingers crossed I don’t hear from Marcella – the patron saint of cats – for a good few years yet.

Dobby very much at home in 2018.  It’s ‘Mia-ow’ from Dobby – and ‘Ow’ from me. I WILL miss her – but not on my keyboard!

 To be concluded.