Authors: Sheila Jeffries
The building was warm and full of noise. People talking and children screaming and running about. We passed the kitchen and I sniffed the aromatic steam rising from massive cauldrons and trays
of food. Beef, chicken and herby smells. I was absolutely starving.
‘Trust you to know where the kitchen is, Tallulah,’ said Penny when I meowed. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get one of my nice sachets of rabbit in a minute.’
They took us into a shiny room with a high ceiling. It was full of bewildered cats, all in cages around the walls. Some were sitting, hunched up and staring miserably out. Others were cowering
in the back of their cage, or weaving to and fro, trying hopelessly to escape. I wished the people would open the cages and let me sit in the middle and gather them round me for a communal purring
session.
The promised sachet of rabbit arrived, and Penny popped it into my cage on a plastic dish. Nothing had ever tasted so scrumptious. I ate every bit, and cleaned the dish with my tongue. I sat
calmly, washing, and waiting to see what would happen. The door opened, and an elderly man came in, his eyes searching the cat cages, and the Siamese cat yelled out at him. He stumbled across the
room with tears glistening on his cheeks.
‘Judy! My Judy!’
He opened the cage and the Siamese cat’s blue eyes sparkled. She could talk, almost like a human, and the love radiated from her aura as she climbed into his arms, kissing his face and
hugging him with her long paws. Then she dived inside his coat and nestled in there, her eyes half closed and blissful as she looked out at the rest of us.
Through the evening there were more emotional reunions as people turned up to find their lost cats. It was a happy time, but not for me. My confidence was draining away. Every time the door
opened, a tiny flame of hope started in my heart, and quickly died when I saw yet another sad and frightened cat being joyfully reclaimed, and it wasn’t me. I was tired, and the unfamiliar
comings and goings resounded through the building. The effort of listening for a voice I knew was intense. Even Penny disappeared and a different cat lady took her place, but she didn’t know
me. I was just another cat.
My eyes began to close. It didn’t feel right to be in that harshly lit noisy place late at night when I would normally have been curled up on TammyLee’s bed. The children’s
voices changed from happy playing to screaming and crying, along with the raised voices of exasperated mothers trying to get them to sleep. Plates and pans were being crashed around in the kitchen,
doors were banging, and people were shouting to each other. My head ached and my ears hurt with the noise. Sleep was impossible.
I did doze a bit and dreamed I heard Amber barking, waking me up with a jump that shook my whole body. The noise went on all night, and the lights stayed painfully bright. I only knew it was
morning when the windows turned silver, and a wild wind swirled leaves across the car park.
The new cat lady brought me a meal but I was now so stressed and exhausted I didn’t touch it. My joy at being rescued was fast turning into despair, and I needed a litter tray. I
couldn’t stay in that cage much longer!
And then . . . I heard running feet. Clonk, clonk across the car park. A figure in black, with flying hair, ran past the window. I sat up, my heart beating fast, my neck getting longer as I
watched the door. And hope came flooding into my tired mind like sacred sunlight. Suddenly, I was warm, and alive, and alert.
I listened.
The footsteps I knew and loved! In the building now, marching along the shiny corridor, closer, and closer. And then my heart leaped with excitement. Another set of footsteps was running
alongside, the click-click of a dog’s nails on the hard floor, and when they stopped, there was the thump-thump of a tail wagging against the wall. The cat lady stood up and went to the
door.
She opened it and peeked out. An argument started.
‘I am afraid you can’t bring that dog in here.’
‘But she is OK with cats.’
‘I am sure she is, dear, but I have got a room full of traumatised cats, and the last thing they need is a dog.’
‘But my cat is friends with her.’
‘Yes, but the other cats aren’t. They’ve been rescued from the floods . . . one was even found clinging to a bit of wood in the river. I am sorry, but you CANNOT bring a dog
in. There’s a place for dogs at the other end of the building.’
I heard a sigh.
‘I’ve been through hell to get here. I waded through the floods and stuff, and I need to see if my cat is here. I’m not going away. Look, I’m dripping wet and
freezing.’
‘All right, dear, don’t get upset. I’ll hold the dog, and you go in . . . but please, DO NOT let any of those cats out, even yours.’
‘Thanks. I won’t.’
The door opened. I fluffed my fur, and sat up, determined to look beautiful. Then I heard a whisper that filled the room, and all the cats went quiet. ‘Where are you, Magic puss
cat?’
I meowed my loudest and my TammyLee turned her head and saw me. ‘Tallulah!’ she cried, and ran across the room to me, and undid the cage door immediately, her bangles jingling as she
reached in and picked me up with ice-cold hands. My whole body turned into a purring machine as TammyLee lifted me into her arms. She smelled of the river, and her hair was wet, but I didn’t
care. We loved each other. I wrapped myself round her neck, my warm fur drying her like a soft towel, the way she had so often dried me. She kissed my face and I kept butting my head into hers,
giving her every last spark of my love.
‘Magic puss cat,’ she sobbed, and the tears were happy tears. ‘I thought I’d lost you for ever. Darling cat. I’m sorry I ran out on you. Please forgive me,
Tallulah.’
Forgive her? Of course I did. It’s what cats do. I turned my purring up a notch, and let it tickle her ear until she giggled.
My angel was whirling round and round us, enjoying herself, whisking ribbons of stars through TammyLee’s aura.
‘I’d better pop you back in, Tallulah,’ she said after our long cuddle. ‘But I won’t leave you. I don’t know where we’ll end up going, but you are
staying with me.’
I didn’t mind being back in the cage because TammyLee was carrying it, and this time it was my turn to look blissfully triumphant with the other cats watching enviously.
‘And guess who’s outside,’ TammyLee said, as we headed towards the door.
I’d already guessed. Amber!
Like TammyLee, she was soaking wet, but so pleased to see me. The cat lady let go of her lead and Amber was so excited that she tried to gallop in small circles on the slippery floor. Then she
sneezed right into my cage and her tail sent the cat lady’s papers flying from the chair. But she managed to make them both laugh. I envied her that talent.
‘Behave, Amber. SIT.’ said TammyLee sternly and Amber did sit down, facing me, and I noticed she was shivering.
‘She swam all the way from the park,’ said TammyLee. ‘And I didn’t find her . . . she found me and she actually stopped me going into the river! She’s such a clever
dog. But look at her . . . she’s really cold.’
‘Take her down there . . . to the RSPCA dog-rescue room. They’ve got hairdryers and towels and loads of food. People have been donating stuff,’ said the cat lady.
‘They’ll sort her out, poor girlie. Here, I’ll take her down. You go and find your family.’
‘Mum’s in hospital,’ said TammyLee, ‘and Dad’s with her. They’re OK, but mum’s got MS, so she needs some help.’
‘And so do you. Go on, you go to the main centre, they’re doing breakfast for about two hundred people.’
She gave TammyLee a cat harness and a lead. ‘If you want to let the cat out, put this on her and keep her attached to you. She might panic in that noisy place.’
All I wanted to do was sleep. I felt safe now, with TammyLee, and Amber, and I trusted that we would eventually go home. So I switched off and slept while TammyLee sat at a table and ate
breakfast. I must have slept for hours, for when I woke up, we were in a different room, and Amber was there, lying on TammyLee’s feet. She looked dry and fuzzy, and much better, and
TammyLee’s hair was dry.
There were families around the room, and some of the children were still asleep. It was quieter, except for a man with a woolly microphone that looked like a cat’s tail. Followed by a
cameraman, he was interviewing people very loudly.
‘This disaster has brought the whole community together,’ he was saying. ‘And families made homeless by these terrible floods are still coming in . . .’
His voice made me drowsy, and I drifted off to sleep again, this time in TammyLee’s arms. She was yawning and snoozing too, and Amber was stretched out on the floor, snoring. We were all
exhausted.
‘Wake up, Tallulah, quickly.’ My angel whispered urgently to me. ‘This is very important.’
Instantly, I was sitting up, on full alert, my whiskers twitching. Something was going to happen.
‘You are needed, now more than ever, Tallulah,’ said my angel, and for once, she was crystal clear in her iridescent colours. She was so radiant that I thought one
of us was going to die. I looked at Amber, and she was breathing. I looked at TammyLee and there was a strange light around her. Squinting my eyes, I watched until the face of a golden angel
materialised from its blaze. I’d never seen her before.
‘Who is she?’ I asked.
‘She is the mother love angel,’ said my angel, respectfully.
I studied the new angel, fascinated by the swerving colours of her robe: intense pink, aqua and silver white. Mysterious images and pictures flickered in the energy she was generating,
constantly changing. For one fleeting moment, I saw a cat’s face, and it was my own mother, Jessica, and then she was gone, like something melting in the sun. She hadn’t liked me when I
was a kitten, but now her brief appearance had radiated love, which made me glow with happiness. I wanted to play and jump in the air, but I was restrained by the cat harness.
‘Be calm,’ said my angel, ‘and do exactly what I tell you. Exactly. Now . . . watch the door.’
As she spoke, a new family was coming in through the door, a young mum with a little boy who was dressed in a tiny denim jacket and jeans. Their pushchair was laden with bags of food and toys.
Like most of the new arrivals, they seemed stressed and anxious, and stood looking round the hall for somewhere to sit.
‘Meow, as loud as you can, and put your tail up,’ said my angel urgently.
My voice called out, an echoing meow, and another, and another. Amber woke up with a jump, and so did TammyLee.
‘What’s the matter, Tallulah?’
‘Keep meowing,’ said my angel. ‘You are calling that family.’
I did, and the little boy turned his head and looked at me with bright blue eyes.
‘Tat!’ he squealed, and tugged at his mother’s arm. ‘Look!’
I changed my voice to a purr-meow. The little boy was Rocky, and he was running towards me, and towards his true mother, TammyLee.
It was a mesmerising moment, and I sensed the angels forming a circle of light around us, weaving it into a celestial umbrella, sheltering us . . . Amber and TammyLee, me and Rocky.
With sudden clarity, I understood the nature of miracles. The flood disaster had turned out to be a blessing for TammyLee.
‘Don’t strangle the poor cat!’ Kaye came bustling after Rocky, a smile of humour in her eyes.
The reality of Rocky was exciting for me. He was bigger, and confident on his feet, square and sturdy as he stood gazing right into my soul with those unforgettable eyes. I could hear him
breathing, and feel his vibrant energy.
He didn’t look at TammyLee, but sat on the floor and put his face close to mine. I responded by kissing him on the nose, and purring. He squealed and laughed and wrapped his little arms
around me.
‘Tat mine,’ he said, and I struggled out of his tight grip, being careful not to scratch him. He touched my tail and felt my whiskers, he put his ear against me and listened to my
purr. ‘Tat purr,’ he said in delight, and tried to imitate the sound. I rolled over on my back, and he examined the pink pads of my paws.
‘Gently . . . gently,’ said Kaye, breaking into our circle of light. She looked at TammyLee. ‘I am sorry,’ she said, ‘but he does love cats . . . and dogs,’
she added, as Amber tried to get in on the act by squirming along the floor. ‘Is your dog OK with children?’
‘She loves them,’ said TammyLee. She smiled at Rocky, but he still didn’t look at her. He was only interested in me.
‘We’ve just arrived,’ Kaye said. ‘D’you mind if we sit ourselves down next to you? Our house isn’t actually flooded, but the water’s rising and
they’ve evacuated the whole street. I grabbed as much as I could. My husband’s gone to work. I’ve got some chocolate and crisps, if you want some. Is your house
flooded?’
They chatted about floods while I played with Rocky, and I heard TammyLee telling Kaye how she’d waded, alone, through the icy water to get home. How Amber had found her and guided her
away from the riverbank.
‘Sounds like she’s a brave dog,’ she said, fondling Amber, who was now leaning against her legs, looking up at her adoringly. ‘And you’re a bit of a heroine too.
Did you say your mum is in hospital?’
‘Yes, but she’s OK,’ TammyLee said. ‘My mum is disabled, but she’s a really special person. I love her to bits. I’m her carer, you see, and have been since I
was ten.’
Kaye looked at her with wide eyes. ‘That’s AWESOME!’
TammyLee shrugged, but she looked pleased. ‘So what about you, Kaye? What’s your little boy’s name?’
‘Rocky.’
A shock rippled through TammyLee, but she acted normal.
‘Go to her,’ said my angel, and I stepped gracefully out of Rocky’s arms and jumped on to TammyLee’s lap. Rocky stood close, looking at her now that she’d got me
cuddled against her heart. It was beating very fast.
‘That’s a nice name,’ she said. ‘Did you choose it for a reason?’
Kaye hesitated. ‘I didn’t choose it,’ she said, and her eyes looked candidly at TammyLee. ‘I started out as his foster mum but now we have legally adopted him, at last!
His real mother . . .’ she lowered her voice, ‘. . . abandoned him under a tree by the river.’