by Susan Finden
Casper the Commuting Cat
First published in Great Britain by Simon & Schuster UK Ltd, 2010
A CBS Company
Copyright © 2010 by Susan Finden with Linda Watson-Brown
This book is copyright under the Berne convention.
No reproduction without permission.
All rights reserved.
The right of Susan Finden and Linda Watson-Brown to be identified as the authors of this work have been asserted by them in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
Simon & Schuster UK Ltd
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Simon & Schuster Australia
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All photos © Susan Finden except: 1 © Karen
Baxter 16, 17, 19, 20, 22, 23 © SWNS Ltd
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available
from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-0-85720-008-2
eBook ISBN: 978-0-85720-009-9
Typeset by Hewer Text UK Ltd, Edinburgh
Printed in Great Britain by CPI Mackays, Chatham ME5 8TD
This book is dedicated to you, the readers, because its proceeds will help assist unfortunate animals. It is also written in memory, of course, of our best friend and lovely old gentleman, Casper.
Contents
Prologue
My story – Casper
1 Finding Casper
2 Finding Mum – Casper
3 Our Family
4 Sue’s Story
5 Love in Unlikely Places
6 Casper Finds his Paws
7 A Comfortable Life
8 How to go Places and Make Friends – Casper
9 Finding More Friends
10 Keeping Track of Casper
11 Trying to Help, Trying to Love
12 A Match Made in Heaven
13 Casper the Travelling Cat
14 The Joys and Rules of Public Transport – Casper
15 Casper Conquers Plymouth
16 Five Minutes of Fame
17 Casper Goes Global
18 How to Deal With Fame – Casper
19 Joining the World of Celebrity Cats
20 Nine Lives and Counting . . .
21 Who is Casper?
22 Putting Plymouth on the Map
23 Pulling Together
24 Casper’s Passing
25 The Hardest Days
26 RIP Casper
27 Discovering the Rainbow Bridge
28 Filling the Gap
29 The Kindness of Strangers
30 Remembering Casper
Epilogue
My Story Continued – Casper
Acknowledgements
Illustrations
Prologue
This is the story of a cat – one little cat. There are other stories of other cats woven into it, but everything revolves around Casper. If it weren’t for him, there would be no book. If it weren’t for him, there would be no story.
You may have heard of my cat. If you have, you’ll be in the company of hundreds of thousands of others across the world. One day, Casper left his house, got on a bus and stole the hearts of the nation. As the tale of the travelling cat spread, his fame spread too. It made no difference to Casper. He expected the good things in life – a warm seat on the bus, a nice meal when he got home, a cuddle when he settled down for the night. He was oblivious to the maelstrom of attention that was swirling around him.
Life was good for Casper. It hadn’t always been that way, but ever since I’d rescued him, years before his name hit the headlines, he had been happy and loved. He brought so much to my life and to the lives of others.
If you know about Casper, you will also know how the story ends – and that is where it has to start. I must be honest with you – as I write this book, as I dip into my treasure trove of memories, the tears are flowing. Why? Because I have lost my beautiful cat. I’ve lost Casper.
Some people will scoff; some will say that I have no sense of perspective, breaking my heart over the death of ‘just’ a cat. Well, they’re wrong. Casper wasn’t just a cat; to me, he was one of the most amazing, individual creatures who ever lived. From the day he came into my life until the day he left it, I knew I’d been blessed with a feline character I would never forget. I had no way of knowing that this bundle of fluff and mischief would touch so many other people too. Not only would he change my world, he would reach out across the globe and remind people what truly matters.
In this day and age, we are so used to hearing ter rible things, to witnessing heartbreaking stories on the news – sometimes feeling there is nothing but doom and gloom everywhere – we often respond to anything that offers some respite. That is what Casper offered. As the astounding tale of the cat who travelled the bus hit the headlines in every country, something astonishing and rather wonderful happened: people opened their hearts.
This is Casper’s story, but it is also the story of every one of us who has loved an animal. We may sometimes wonder why we feel so strongly for these creatures who share our lives, but I truly believe that our capacity to love and care for our fellow creatures is something we should cling to and take pride in. If Casper has accomplished anything, it has been that he has brought people together – a remarkable achievement for one little cat.
My tears may still be flowing, for I can’t deny that there is a terrible gap in my life where Casper used to be, but I’m smiling too. I hope you’ll join me in the rollercoaster of emotion as I share the incredible tale of Casper the Commuting Cat.
With love – Sue x
My Story
Casper
Sue is quite right when she says this is the story of a cat called Casper. It is my story, and I’m delighted it’s being told, as I certainly made the most of my life. Whilst a lot of my fellow cats were happy to observe their owner’s boundaries, I always went that bit further. Inquisitiveness is in a cat’s nature but for me it was everything. I simply had to climb that fence, jump over that wall or ride that bus. There was just so much exploring to do. Of course, thinking back, I wish I’d not have been quite as nosy and naughty. If I hadn’t insisted on going out that January morning I might still be down there with the rest of you, eating tasty treats. But I lived my nine lives the only way I could – to the full. And now I’m on the other side, across the rainbow bridge – as the afterlife is called in the animal world – I can look back with a sense of satisfaction that I went to places few cats are bold enough to explore.
I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to point out a few things about what it’s like for a cat trying to make his way around that crazy planet of yours. We felines can sometimes feel a little bemused by it all. You see, humans, while often acting with the best of intentions, do have some peculiar ways. I’m sure most of you conduct yourself as well as you can, but there are so many rules and regulations, that I often wonder how you get from day to day. You rush around, always in a hurry, always so concerned about things that seem – may I say – rather unimportant, yet when creatures such as myself try to slow you down, to make you see the pleasant things in life, you are generally amenable, which means there is hope for you. How much easier each day would be if you took a few lessons from us cats and tried to see things the furry way.
While I was quite content to make new friends, explore new worlds and embark on adventures, ther
e were moments when I found your world quite crazy. That got me thinking how useful it would be if there were guidelines to make the journey and the relationships clearer.
Which brings me to this: the next time you wonder where your cat companion has been for the day, instead of asking daft questions that no self-respecting member of the cat world would ever answer, even if we could talk, it would save us all a lot of time if you were simply to refer to Casper’s Rules, which I have reproduced in this book for the benefit of all. My time on earth may have passed, but there is no reason why I cannot still teach you a better way of doing things. I do hope that, in return, you will learn.
I hope you enjoy my tales of how I managed to navigate this strange place – the conventions I needed to understand (and sometimes avoid), as well as the various tricks I used to ensure humans realized just how important it was for me to go about my daily business as effortlessly as possible. I may no longer be with you physically, but I’m still around. I’m still here to help and guide you. I am, after all, rather fond of you.
So now it’s time to enter my world . . . with a little help from my mum.
Casper
CHAPTER 1
Finding Casper
There was a time before Casper, but I can barely remember it. When I look back on my life, it’s full of cats and cat memories, but Casper was so special and so unforgettable that he is the one who seems to colour so much of what I recall.
It will surprise no one when I say that I love cats. I’ve had so many over the years that you may think I must have lost count, but that’s far from true. I remember every one, every name, every character.
They all have their individual traits – in this they are no different from their human companions – and they all give so much in return for the love and care we offer them When we cry, they come to us. When we laugh, they suddenly appear to see what all the fuss is about. When we need a break or a distraction, they decide that it’s time they had some attention or some food. When we feel stress, that’s often when they drop a toy at our feet, or start chasing their own tail, or decide to sit on our desk. They are the most intuitive creatures imaginable, always aware of what would help us.
That’s not to say they are selfless – far from it. In fact, if you want your cat to be particularly responsive to what may help you, it’s a good idea to make sure kitty has everything he or she needs first. I’ve found that once they have all that is deemed necessary in their little world, they’re a lot more conscientious about what mum or dad may want too. When that happens, you’ll find no more loyal a friend.
There has been many an occasion when I’ve had bad news or felt rather down, and before I knew it, a cat would be beside me, purring contentedly as if to reassure me someone would always be there when needed. Cats recognize happiness too, and can always be relied upon to respond to a joyful atmosphere, as if their little paws would happily dance around in joy to mirror your own.
Over the years, my cats have given me so much. They all contributed something to my life, and they all had their own special traits and idiosyncrasies. Something about Casper was different, however. I’ve adored the feline family I’ve accumulated over the years, but something about that little chap touched me the moment I saw him, and it continues to affect me every single day. Maybe there is someone for everyone. We all hope to find another person whom we can love and share our life with, and perhaps that applies to pets too. So often there is simply a connection that can’t be explained; it’s one of the luckiest coincidences in the world. To find another creature we connect with is a precious thing. I’ve experienced that connection with all of my cats, but especially so with Casper.
There was nothing particularly momentous about the day I went to collect him My husband Chris has the patience of a saint and is used to me deciding on a whim to get another cat. To his great credit, he’s always supportive and gets the car ready for us to set off at the right time. The practical aspects are left to him, and I appreciate that hugely. I’m the one who makes the emotional, almost instantaneous, decision that another bundle of fur is coming to live with us.
I’ve had all ages and types of cats over the years, but as I’ve grown older myself, I’ve gone for ‘geriatrics’ – they’re much harder to home because most people tend to want cute kittens. Older cats often have health problems, but I love the idea of giving everyone a chance and making sure that the last days of some poor animals’ lives are filled with comfort and love. Maybe, as the years pass, I hope that someone will care for me that way too.
I’ve had many jobs working with the elderly and with adults who have learning difficulties. These people all have special needs and they have as much right to be treated with respect as anyone else. That has, no doubt, rubbed off on me and affected how I view the world. Not only do I want humans to have some dignity in their final years, but I also want that to extend to animals.
I am as soppy as anyone else when faced with a six-week-old kitten looking up at me with huge eyes, and my heartstrings are tugged in just the same way but I know that kitten will find a home so much more easily than a ten-year-old cat with arthritis, or one that has only a year or so to live because of terminal cancer. By taking in the older waifs and strays I hope to be able to right some of the wrongs that have been done to them over the years. In giving them love and care during their final days, I get a great deal of pleasure and satisfaction myself. It isn’t an unhappy option: there are plenty of laughs and cuddles, and I feel blessed by every single paw that trots through my door.
One day, in December 2002, I did my usual thing of telling Chris, ‘It’s time to get another cat.’ I haven’t always had such a supportive husband, and there is part of me that is in awe every time Chris goes along with my plans. Patiently, yet again, he agreed – and didn’t bat an eyelid when I said that, actually, I thought two would be a good idea. Indeed, for most people, two may very well have been an excellent notion, but for us perhaps it wasn’t the best proposal. Getting sibling cats or two who have known each other from a rescue centre means that they always have a playmate, there’s always someone to keep them company, but that wasn’t going to be a problem in our house, as we had six cats already.
At the time, we were living in a beautiful three-storey Victorian villa in Weymouth, Dorset. The house was huge, with lots of space, a secluded garden and a cellar – plenty of places for inquisitive kitties to hide and explore. We tend to move house quite frequently and I am always on the lookout for a home that is cat-friendly. This one ticked most of the boxes. The property was big enough for the cats to roam freely, and to go out or stay in according to their temperament. I never felt that the place was overflowing.
When I had the desire to bring more cats into the family, it didn’t seem a problem. I love to be surrounded by cats, and I would happily take on more and more until they were everywhere. I have enough love to go around, but I will house another cat only if we have the financial capacity to feed and care for him or her. Older cats need a great deal of veterinary care, and those costs must always be taken into consideration by anyone who is expanding their family. Love is one of the main qualifications when acquiring any pet, but money helps too. If I had a bottomless pit of cash, I would have an endless troupe of cats; as it is, I must be practical and realize that these ill and old pets might often cause me to dip into my resources.
As well as giving a home to older cats, I always make sure I get them from rescue centres, usually ones affiliated with Cats Protection. I know charities face problems getting ‘forever homes’ for these feline pensioners, so I tend to keep in touch with them whenever we move into a new area. By the time I feel the need to get a new cat, I’ve usually built up a relationship with the organizer.
‘Come on then, Sue,’ called Chris on the morning we were heading off to get the cats. ‘Let’s go see what we’re getting this time.’ We had no idea who we were going to opt for, as I hadn’t chatted with the lady who housed them, and both Chris and I left
with an open mind, telling the cats we left behind that we’d be coming home with some new playmates for them.
Off we drove on the empty Sunday roads to meet Casper, without realizing what was going to happen to our lives. In retrospect, I wonder how I would have felt had I known that I was about to welcome into my world the cat who would change it. As with most momentous changes, I was blissfully unaware, thinking of nothing more than the happiness I always felt in welcoming a new animal into our home.
This particular cat home was linked to Cats Protection but it was a private house rather than a shelter. It was run by an elderly lady in an impressive 1930s property, which she shared with the cats. She lived upstairs and eighteen cats had the run of the downstairs.
When she invited us in, we were immediately surrounded by all these creatures, sniffing us and rubbing against us. They were clearly perfectly happy, even though they were pretty much left to their own devices. They were all mixed together but there was a very relaxed atmosphere. While we there, I wasn’t aware of any fighting, hissing or spitting – which seemed a good omen. The house was big enough for them to have their own space if they wanted it, or to hang around with a friend if they preferred. The only problem for us was going to be how to choose from the many cats there. Chris and I had taken two wicker cat baskets with us, and there was no way I was leaving without my new companions.
The lady said it was feeding time and we followed her through to the kitchen, where there were stainless steel dishes, for water and meat and crunchy snacks, dotted around everywhere. She put enough food into each bowl to feed four cats, although it was a bit of a squeeze. We stood there watching them, hoping for inspiration or for one of them to come over to us.
