I never much cared for the company of others. I had been turfed out by my humans when I was young to fend for myself as I am ‘not perfect’.

I had done a pretty good job of it as a wild, feral cat! My coat was matted, and my claws sharp. Whilst I couldn’t catch mice or other furry meals, I did make a good living on ants, flies and my luxury meal was cobwebs.

I had lived feral for some time, hunter gathering for myself, then I got hit by a car. My tail and back were very badly damaged. I managed to crawl into a garage to shelter from winter’s cruel elements. I needed to lick my wounds, but my mouth was sealed over with blood and saliva. I was slowly starving and closed my eyes as I lay on a cold concrete floor, expecting to end my miserable days amongst old boxes, a lawn mower and other rubbish.

The owner of the house found me, but she didn’t like cats. I was passed on to another human and taken to a vet where I was shaved of all my dirty, matted fur, I was tested and found to be disease free which was deemed to be a miracle, considering the state of me!

However the new human had a cat, and I was very wary of other felines, I would try to fight and was quite territorial so the decision was made to put me down as I am also very disabled. I was taken in an old cardboard box to the vets, but when the car boot was opened, I looked so appealing, I was given a stay of execution.

That is how I ended up at Tom Cat Towers. I was taken straight there and left, which was rather bewildering.

My new human wasn’t keen when she heard about this tiny Persian cat who ‘wobbled’ a bit on occasions. When I arrived it was clear that I ‘wobbled’ every second of the day as I am so very brain damaged and physically disabled ... I am totally inbred; my legs are half size, my paws turn outward as I ‘walk’ on my ankles. My tail is too big, and I can’t lift it off the floor so it drags behind me. My eyes are fully dilated at all times, I cannot meow, (but boy can I growl!!) I cannot walk straight and fall over quite regularly. And when I try to concentrate, I shake, quite violently, all over! My new human’s heart sank when she first saw me. She envisaged a steady flow of very large vet’s bills coming her way. She didn’t think that I would survive the week as I was also quite injured after the road accident and to top it all, my fur had been shaved off when I was first rescued as I was such a mess! My new human was convinced I was made of rubber. When I fall over or fall off things she holds her breath, but I just bounce back and gets on with life with a big smile on my scarce set of whiskers!.

But when I arrived at Tom Cat Towers, I was too weak to bother; I was placed on a sheepskin rug. Where all my fur had been shaved off, my exposed skin was all cold and shivery. My back hurt and I had lost so much weight I didn’t care if I died.

This is when I met Willi Whizkas.

Willi’s version:

Life has been rather mundane here at Tom Cat Towers since I lost my best chum Tushtots a couple of years ago.

He arrived in a mad panic as a rescue cat who had to have all his fur shaved off but that didn’t stop him being a lively sort of a chap! We hit it off immediately and became best friends. I would lie next to him to keep him warm as his fur grew back. I would lick him between his ears to soothe him and share my snoozzee with him. I even took him on adventures.

Sadly he became very ill and I spent the last few months looking out for him as he faded away. My human was heartbroken when he left us, so was I. My days were long and lonely without my playmate. A few months before the human discovered how poorly Tushers was, we had another rescue arrive at Tom Cat Towers …. A girl cat.

Now, I may have had my manly bits removed, but I am a rufty-rufty sort of a tom having spent all my time in the company of other male cats. In fact all the cats at Tom Cat Towers had been boys. So Little Dumpty Roo, a Himalayan Lynx - and a girl - was quite a novelty.

However she considered herself above royalty and spends all her time on the human’s bed. She never goes out, she doesn’t eat with me. In fact, if I approach her to have a friendly sniff, especially at the back end of her, either Dumpty gives me a clout or my human throws something at me! Many a time I have tried to lie next to her only to be removed very quickly in case I upset her ‘Royal Regalness’. I refer to her as floozy pants.

So, it was a great surprise to me after many lonely months without Tushtots after an action packed day outside terrorisingthe wildlife, that I ambled into the lounge to find a sheepskin rug on the floor and a tiny scrap of a cat, all shaved of its fur. The poor thing was skeletal (that never happens in Tom Cat Towers where food is on constant demand for a cat who has its human well trained at doling out sachets and trays of grub!). It was in a lot of pain and didn’t look long for this world.

It was evident that this little cat was in a bad way. Its half closed, frightened eyes were focused on my human who was gently trying to settle it down without harming it. I went to have sniff, but was soon pushed away by my human. It was a tiny girl tabby Persian, and she looked for all the world like she could have been related to my best pal Tushtots.

My heart just melted at the sight of all that bare pink skin. Clearly this little girl needed a carer, a supervisor and friend to nurse her back to health and as senior cat in the household, that job clearly fell to me.

I had a new role in life!!!

 

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