Casper The Commuting Cat: The True Story Of The Cat Who Rode The Bus And Stole Our Hearts

I’d discovered by this stage that I was suffering from some quite severe health problems and I needed heart surgery. Before that could happen, I had to get my blood pressure down, so I was visiting my GP quite a lot. One day I arrived for my appointment and checked in at reception. I was directed to the waiting area as usual, and as I walked towards a chair, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Casper.

He was sitting, bold as brass, on one of the plastic seats, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I had an early morning appointment and no one else was there yet – thankfully. ‘Casper!’ I whispered sharply. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ He gave me a lazy look, as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain himself, then settled back down again. I looked around quickly, expecting to see a receptionist bearing down on me with demands to get Casper out immediately, but the room remained empty. I gathered him up in my arms, all the while telling him what a naughty boy he was, and took him into the car park, shooing him in the direction of the cottage.

When I was called in to see the doctor, I was surprised that my blood pressure wasn’t through the roof. All I could think was that Casper had trotted into the surgery before me and had hopped onto a chair while I was talking to the receptionist. I felt very relieved that they hadn’t spotted him on this one-off occasion when he had been so cheeky.

The next week I was back at the practice for more tests and I was running a little late. When I got there, I was told to go straight through. There were a number of doctors on duty, all with offices attached to each other. As I sat there with the blood pressure cuff around my arm, discussing the results of my previous tests, I almost fainted when I heard someone in another room shout, ‘Get that cat out of here! This is a surgery not a pet shop!’

I knew it was Casper. After all, how many other cats were likely to be doing exactly the same thing he had done? I couldn’t jump up and say that I was off to get my cat, so I got through my appointment as quickly as possible and hurried home, only to find Casper innocently waiting for me on the doorstep.

After I had seen Cassie a few more times at the practice, it became clear that, despite the doctors being less than happy when he followed patients in for their consultations, the staff were well aware of his presence and were relaxed about him being there.

One day I gathered up the courage to raise the issue with a receptionist when I was making my next appointment. ‘Erm . . .’ I began, hesitatingly, ‘do you know there’s sometimes a cat in here?’

She smiled as if it was the most natural thing in the world. ‘Yes, yes, we do,’ she said. ‘Isn’t he lovely?’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Well, actually, I think he’s mine,’ I admitted.

‘Is he? Is Casper yours?’

We had a little chat and she told me that he was in quite often, that they had got his name from his disk and that, as long as he kept out of the doctors’ rooms, they were all generally happy to have him there. This astounded me – how kind and how eccentric at the same time. Only in Britain would a strange, wandering cat be seen as a normal addition to a healthcare practice. My heart lifted at the thought of how kind these people had been to Casper while I had been living in blissful ignorance.

The receptionist told me there were lots of patients who’d commented on how nice it was to see Casper; when they came in stressed or worried, he managed to distract them for a little while. The more I thought about it, the more I felt this was probably why he was so welcome.

I’d heard of programmes that took animals into hospitals to help long-term patients, as they can help lower blood pressure, reduce stress and release ‘happy hormones’. In fact, at the world-renowned Great Ormond Street Hospital, there is a pet therapy project that brings animals in on a regular basis. The hospital has visits from guinea pigs, kittens, dogs and even once a Shetland pony. The medical staff has found that young patients feel much more relaxed and comfortable, even in such a difficult environment, when furry friends are around. Across the country there are thousands of pet therapy dogs and cats who’ve done amazing work, and I felt, in his own small way, that Casper was achieving something similar. The irony was that while he may have been helping the blood pressure of other people, his escapades and travels were making mine worse!

What was amazing about Casper was that he expected to be allowed to go anywhere he wanted. He never seemed to show nervousness about walking into any place that took his fancy, despite many of them being less than cat friendly. I didn’t expect him to read the signs for the surgery or whatever, but surely most cats would have been put off by strange buildings full of people they didn’t know? Not Casper. Perhaps he saw the stickers saying that no dogs were allowed and took that to mean that cats were more than welcome.