A Twist in the Tail
By Ella Allison aged 10
Do you like tails with a waggy ending?
I first met my cat online – on Valentine’s Day to be precise. After months of persuasion I had finally
got my mum to relent and let me have a cat. A cat and NOT a kitten and it had to be a Siamese mix
as Mum had read they were most like a dog. We were a doggy house never having had a cat.
So we typed in “Siamese Rescue” and up popped a picture of Fabio in his own Valentine’s Day plea
begging for a true love. Fabio it seems was a Siamese mix with the sapphire eyes of his mother and
the tabby tiger stripes of his errant father. It was love at first sight.
Fabio? That’s an unusual name I hear you ask? Fabio was a street cat from Cadiz.
Do you know what they do to street cats in Cadiz? They round them up and most never see the light
of day again.
Fabio got lucky - traded in one of his nine lives – the cat catchers knew of some eccentric ladies from
England who rescued Siamese cats. Fabio and his street brother Khan a pure bred seal point Siamese
were found in a car park next to a busy road and were handed over to the English ladies.
Once a kitten becomes a cat people really aren’t so keen to adopt – and a street cat even harder. So
the English ladies turned to England and the internet. Despite his tough start Fabio was according to
the charity a cuddle monster and had relied on Khan to provide a decent meal. Khan however was
soon adopted leaving Fabio alone and forlorn.
So after making a donation to the charity and a long journey over land and sea Fabio was deposited
at our front door that spring. The kind lady handed over a very smart passport confirming Fabio was
neutered boy of about 2. A basket was opened and inside was the tiniest and most scared cat in the
world. The photos had hidden the fact that Fabio was missing an ear tip, had a strange bald patch on
his back and hair missing above his eyes! It seemed to me that he’d been in quite a fight. Fabio
didn’t “miao” but sort of “yipped” and tried to hide behind the washing machine – so we left him in
peace with some food and drink and a little basket. The next few days were agony as we tried to
settle him in. He was so shy and frankly a bit stinky. I bought him a diamante collar. My brother
declared he couldn’t be calling a cat Fabio and after some debate Fabio was renamed Mr
Bigglesworth.
I had to go on a school trip and on my return it was clear there had been quite a change. My brother
was clearly a “kitty whisperer” and had coaxed Mr Bigglesworth out of the utility room, into the
kitchen and onto his lap! I was scared Mr Bigglesworth would scratch me as he had a habit of
kneading the lap of whoever gave him a cuddle. We had to train him to retract his claws at cuddle
time.
The first few weeks were a steep learning curve. Mum learnt that a cat was not like a dog and
needed a litter tray. Mr Wigglesworth had his first wetwipe bath and smelt a lot better. He then
escaped house arrest and disappeared for a whole 6 hours. We were worried sick until Mr
Bigglesworth sashayed back in at night-time minus his new collar and allowed me to cuddle him for
the first time ever.
Mr Bigglesworth also met his new BFF - Basil.
Basil is our dog – possibly the best dog in the world ever. A huge massive, greedy, soppy, smelly,
bonkers and loveable Labrador. The charity had queried whether we had a dog and on hearing about
Basil decided he would be acceptable. We were very wary about introducing them and Basil was
very interested in this little chap who never quite left a clear plate after supper. Within a week they
were sharing a bed! Until that is it was quite clear Mr Bigglesworth had fallen so in love with Basil
that he wouldn’t give him a moments peace. Mornings revealed an exhausted black dog with cream
fluff all over his face. They now sleep apart.
Mr Bigglesworth was very wary of the garden. Slowly but surely he ventured out generally under the
guidance of Basil. It was quite clear he had never walked on grass and tiptoed over the lawn shaking
his paws as they touched upon the blades of grass. It was also very clear that Mr Bigglesworth had
never caught a living thing in his life. Apparently those blue eyes meant he was very short sighted
and could barely catch a leaf; a spider surprised him and scuttled off back under the TV one night.
Siamese cats are very friendly because they rely on humans for survival as they are rubbish at
hunting.
Mr Bigglesworth seemed to sneeze a lot – at the grass, on the carpet, after he nudged mum. One
day Mr Bigglesworth sneezed so hard he had a nose bleed so Mum took him to the vets. He had a
bad cold and needed some medicine and vitamins for the rest of his life. He had had cat flu as a
kitten and would always be weak. His teeth were also shocking and needed to come out – all of
them! His “street life” diet was very bad it seemed. Mum thought a second opinion was best as he
was such a young cat it seemed a bit rough. So a new vet said he would see what could be saved but
an operation was needed.
Mr Bigglesworth hates car travel and yowled all the way to the vet and made a bit of a mess of his
cat carrier. Mum was glad to hand him over.
Later that day my brother and I went to collect the new and improved Mr Bigglesworth who was
now minus only 4 teeth and had had a full scale and polish.
The vet nurse said he was the prettiest cat ever, at which point my brother said he thought he was a
bit too weedy to be a boy and seemed to be madly in love with our dog. The nurse said they would
check and minutes later came returned giggling. We were in for a surprise as Mr Bigglesworth would
now like to be known as Mrs Bigglesworth she declared!
Mum was totally shocked and concerned that Mrs Bigglesworth was not at any risk of becoming
Queen Bigglesworth as her cat passport stated very clearly she was a neutered boy! The vet laughed
and said after 9 months we would have had kittens by now and the clue she had been spayed was
the nip off her ear which foreign vets do to let people know there are no kittens on the way!
It was so strange to think of our cat as a girl! We were a bit softer and more gentle when shooing her
off the work surfaces, keeping her away from helping stack the dishwasher or coaxing her outside
for a leg stretch (she hates our British weather).
Within days of those teeth coming out she turned into a bundle of fun. Clearly those teeth had been
giving her trouble.
Christmas was a challenge with constant attacks on the Christmas tree – I used my spy kit sensors
around the tree which triggered each time she got too close. She enjoyed ripping up the Xmas
wrappings as much as the dog and had her very own stocking.
After supper each night Basil and Biggles play the most extraordinary game of “tickle and scratch.”
Basil nudges the cat in her belly and she responds with a swipe of her paw, never quite with full
claws. If he stops she goes looking for more.
When Basil is out on a walk she yowls forlornly and paces to get out after him. Every time I come in
from school she rushes to the door, then remembers she is a princess and sits demurely waiting for a
cuddle. She likes to sit on my head when we cuddle.
None of us can imagine our little cat surviving as a street cat and we wonder what her first few years
were like? Had she ever had kittens of her own, where had she slept (she is partial to hiding in a
cardboard box), did she ever have a home? We imagine her with a little Spanish accent.
I look at her now cosied up to her dog, full belly (she is a bit podgy now), warm bed, cuddles and
playtimes aplenty and think perhaps we have been accepted - as her forever slaves.