The Wight Fair Writers & Artists Circle

A Place for Isle of Wight Authors, Writers and Artists

Members Musings February 2018


Maggie JonesPets Galore by Maggie Jones

When I think back to when I was a little girl, I realised that pets played a very big part in my life. My mum’s black & white cat Johnny came with us when I was four and we moved to my Nan’s shop in Charing. Here we seemed to have pets galore as we inherited two mad Labradors, a yellow one called Peggy and  a black one called Sally. That wasn’t all, out in the orchard were a few scraggly chickens, and also my Nan’s cat, Alex. Fortunately, the goat who’d eaten my grandfather’s trousers off the washing line was no longer around.

Over the years we had many cats, Inky a black one and Mon Sherri, a beautiful fluffy cat we re-homed from my aunty, and who my mum refused point blank to call him in using his given name. That was quickly shortened to Sherry. Personally, I think that was because my mum was partial to a glass of it.

When I left home I soon realised it wasn’t the same without a pet, so along came a beautiful half Persian ginger cat, Sam. Sadly he was run over and I couldn’t go throw the pain of losing another one that it wasn’t until I moved again I thought about getting another cat.

It was my intention to only get one, however, when I went to look at the kittens, there were three, and in my defence, the place was awful, not somewhere I could possibly walk away with one, leaving the other two behind.  So I took all of them with me.

My reception when I got home wasn’t a warm one. But Harry or Henrietta as she turned out to be a girl and quickly that was shortened to little H, Lottie and Billy lived with us for a few years, until we re-homed Lottie with my brother-in-law. He’d lost his cat and I was having my daughter. We thought it might be too much having three cats and a baby.

However, that didn’t last long and we did get another cat. They say you never own a cat and that’s true. When Dinky wandered into my garden and made herself at home with my other two, it dawned we were back to being a three cat family again.

I’d tried to find out if she belonged to anyone without any luck, so Dinky was ours.

When we moved to the island, all three cats came too. The journey from Kent was horrendous. All the cats were crying and so was I.

Over the years, as with life we’ve had to make that awful decision to let our beloved cats go to the rainbow bridge. This was always very painful and many tears were shed.

Currently, I have a ginger & white short haired cat Wizby who has been my best friend, during some really awful times. I’ve sat and cried and laughed with him and he’s never judged me. He’s also driven me nuts, especially when I buy shedloads of cat food he likes, only for the next time I put a dish of it down he gives me such a withering look that I know it’s going in the bin.

One time when he did that, I decided instead of keep trying to push it on him I would take the unopened packets to the Cats Protection Society.

My daughter had got her cat from there a couple of years ago  and I was so impressed with how much the society did for unwanted and stray cats, helping them find their forever home.

So a couple of years ago, I decided that instead of sending Xmas cards, I would donate some money to an animal charity.

The first year I did this, I donated to the donkey sanctuary on the island. But this year, was the turn of the Cats Protection Society. Not only did I give a monetary donation, but Wizby kindly donated some food he no longer wanted. (Didn’t like anymore)!

So if anyone who reads this musings decides they would rather support a worthy charity instead of sending Xmas cards this year, Wizby and I  know a great charity with the Cats Protection Society.

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