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7. ALFIE THE CHRISTMAS CAT

Chapter One

We prepared for noise and chaos to fill our house on what can only be described as one of my favourite days. It was family lunch day, and we have a big family. What I have learnt, as a doorstep cat, is that family isn’t just about blood. As George and I groomed ourselves, ready to greet all our favourite people, we were more than a little bit excited.

I’m Alfie, if you haven’t met me before, and George is my kitten, although he’s not exactly a kitten anymore. As most parents know, there is a reluctance to acknowledge that our children are growing up, getting older and more independent. I have to admit, looking back, I miss when George was younger and needed me more than he does now. Thinking about how I used to moan about lack of sleep, no time to myself, constantly being on guard for danger … But I’d turn the clocks back in a heartbeat. Of course, George still needs me at times, but he is so independent, with his own life and even a girlfriend, Hana. Oh how he’s grown into a fine tom. But I digress.

I am a doorstep cat, which means I have more than one home, more than one family that I spend time with. George and I have our main home with Claire, Jonathan, and our children, Toby and Summer. We live on Edgar Road. It’s a big street with lots of different types of houses. We often gather at ours as it is one of the bigger houses, and we have a lot of people, pets and children to fit in.

‘Hey guys!’ Matt, who is one of the most laid back of our adults, approached the doorstep with his wife Polly, and their children, Henry and Martha. Oh, and on the lead was a very excited Pickles, their pug who spends a lot of time with us. I am not only a cat who looks after humans, but also dogs, it seems.

Pickles tries to eat everything in sight, and likes to lick whatever he can’t eat. He’s still a puppy, albeit quite a chubby one! I am often charged with Pickles sitting; have been since he was tiny. Now, as I said, he’s far from tiny – as the time he got stuck in the cat flap proved – but he’s part of the family. He might have taken a bit of getting used to, us cats and dogs aren’t natural friends after all, but we love him very much. Although … George took longer than me to come around to having him in our lives, and he can still sometimes be a bit cutting with him.

‘Meow,’ George and I greeted them, along with a friendly nuzzle. As they stepped inside, Pickles licked us both then licked Jonathan’s feet. Thankfully, he was wearing slippers. The children shrieked as they all went upstairs to play. Toby, Summer, Henry, and Martha are the best of friends, which is lucky as we all spend so much time together. As Polly and Matt went off to help with drinks and food, we waited to see who our next arrivals would be.

The doorbell rang again and Sylvie, Marcus, their teenager Connie, and their baby Theo were there. They’d also brought their cat, George’s girlfriend Hana. They made such a cute couple.

Claire practically trampled us to get hold of Theo, before they even set foot inside. Theo was our latest addition; he was only a few months old and ever so popular. It was the same when George was a kitten and Pickles a puppy. People liked babies.

‘Come in out of the cold,’ Jonathan said as Claire walked into the living room cuddling Theo.

‘I’m just going to pick Dad up,’ Marcus said, before leaving to get his dad, Harold, who lived at the end of the street.

It was largely down to George that Harold became part of our group and, in turn, his son Marcus and Sylvie– our next door neighbour – fell in love. We can actually pretty much take credit for baby Theo, thinking about it.

I grinned and raised my whiskers at George and Hana. We could hear the children laughing upstairs, the adults in the kitchen– Jonathan and Claire were cooking, and Polly now had hold of baby Theo. Pickles was running around in circles, Sylvie was enjoying a much-needed sit down and Connie hovered anxiously. We all knew who she was waiting for.

The sound of the doorbell heralded our final guests. As well as Harold, who brought his cat Snowball, my girlfriend and first love– it’s a long story so I’ll tell you about it later – Tomasz, Franceska, and their teenagers Aleksy and Tommy stood on the doorstep.

There were more hugs and kisses and nuzzles and strokes before we were all finally in one place. Our family lunch was about to start. And I couldn’t have been happier.

George, Hana, Snowball and I snuck into the garden. We should have known that Pickles wouldn’t like to be left out and watched as he emerged through the cat flap, which was actually a doggy door. He got stuck in the cat flap so it had had to be replaced with a bigger door.

‘What are you doing?’ Pickles asked. He might not be tiny anymore but he was only a year old, so still a baby. He’d also spent most of the first year of his life trying to be a cat. It’s a hard lesson every non-cat has to learn, that not just anyone can be a cat. It takes a lot of skill.