Pumpkin

Just over two and a half years ago, Mum and I moved into a new house. It had been a long time coming – the old house had been on the market for 2 years and we had spent the previous 9 weeks homeless due to a deal falling through on the house Mum was hoping to buy.

Those were 9 long weeks. Everything we owned was in storage. We had a suitcase each with a week’s worth of clothes in (the length of time we initially thought we would be between houses) and that was it.

It was beyond wonderful to finally have a home. I was not cut out for a nomadic life, sleeping on people’s floors and not knowing from one week to the next where we would be staying the night.
Three days after we moved in was a Saturday. We were still living amongst boxes and trying to figure out where everything would go when Mum announced...

“I want a kitten”

I wasn’t that surprised. I’ve never known a house without a cat and we’d had to put down Pickle, our cat of 12 years earlier in the year. In a way it was fortunate because who knows what would have happened to her during our homeless period. Either way I think now that there was a home again it needed a cat and when Mum makes up her mind...well....it’s as good as done.

We took ourselves off to the RSPCA where we both immediately spotted a gorgeous little tortoiseshell – nose pressed against the glass while her brothers and sisters played. She was ready to go home.

Once we got her home we realised that we had forgotten everything about having a kitten. She was so teeny tiny and was in to absolutely everything. There were gaps behind cupboards and fridges and washing machines to get into, boxes to explore, she wasted no time setting forth on her exploration.

Within a couple of minutes she had full control of the house and it continued that way for many months. We were enraptured with everything she did, except for when she’d hide under my bed in the morning and then leap out on my feet as I tried to get ready for work.

Then one day the RSPCA rang to tell us that the Pumpkin’s Mum and 2 of her siblings had died from feline leukaemia. The mother had been a stray and probably caught it out and about and passed it on to the babies. They advised us to go and get her tested to see if it was positive.

Turns out it was and in a week she went from being a fun-loving kitten, (who did sleep a lot but then what cat doesn’t?!) to not a well little person at all. Her nose was all pale and she didn’t want to play, just sleep all the time.

So 2 years ago today we had to take her to the vets to be put to sleep (by the way, how bad a month was this? Grandparents dying, kittens dying....).

She was only 9 months old and far too young for something like this to be happening to her. I always think about what could have been. She was such a fabulous cat and so beautiful.

RIP Pumpkin.

PS I did not name her

PPS The RSPCA were very good about the situation. They paid for the test and for the euthanasia and told us we would come back and get another kitten without having to pay the adoption fee again. As one of my friends said, “Well I should think so, they sold you faulty goods!”

PPPS We did go back and get another kitten, the infamous Mabel, but that is a story for another time.