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

After she had been with us for a while, I noticed she was getting a scab on her ear that I knew hadn’t come from a cut. I took her back to the vet and received the sad news that she did, indeed, have skin cancer. He also noticed that she had a sty under her eyelid – this was also cancerous. The vet was absolutely brilliant and performed plastic surgery on her face, but he had to amputate her ear. However, the disease spread and, within a month, Gemma started walking in continuous circles. The vet believed that she was having terrible headaches and this was her way of coping with them.

Gemma still sought out the sun, no matter how tiny the spot. The amazing thing was that Clyde, who was not a sun worshipper, started to sit with her. The more ill she became, the more dedicated he was. Gemma was never alone; she always had her friend beside her. I swear he knew she was poorly and he was trying to offer her some comfort. I had a lump in my throat every time I saw them together: Gemma getting weaker and Clyde diligently keeping watch. When she got up from her spot and started to walk round in circles, he’d wait until she tired herself out and came back to him It was incredibly humbling to witness such patience and consideration.

As time went on, her walking in circles got worse and I knew the time had come to make a decision. In my heart, I knew she’d have to be put to sleep. I was on my own the day I went, as Chris was working abroad, and I felt such loneliness and sorrow Every time I’ve been in this position, I’ve done it by myself, and it is a great burden to carry. Many people say that animals are lucky: they have us to make the decision for them and help them to cross the rainbow bridge. I appreciate and understand that way of thinking, but it doesn’t stop the loss from hurting.

When poor little Gemma was being prepared for her injection, I swear she held out her paw towards me as if to say ‘bye bye’. I cried my heart out – as I have done with all of them, and as I’m sure I’ll continue to do. All the cats touch me so deeply that I can’t help but be affected.

I don’t feel guilty about making the choice to help them pass over, but I’m a little sad my decision does, in effect, betray my animals, even when I’m trying to do the right thing by them Gemma wasn’t the first pet I’d had to do this for, and she won’t be the last. All I could do as I said goodbye was promise her that I’d never forget her and make a commitment to do all I could for any other cat who crossed my path. It would be my life’s work and a privilege.

CHAPTER 10

Keeping Track of Casper

After a while, we moved from Frome to Crewkerne, an old-fashioned market town in Somerset. Unfortunately our new house was on a busy road. I knew for certain that Casper was a wanderer, so I had many worried moments. I didn’t know many people to begin with, so I had no idea whether the residents and workers here would be as tolerant of Casper as they had been in our previous location. He was a very trusting cat and I felt he was willing to assume all humans were good. I shuddered to think what might happen if he put his faith in the wrong person, but I kept my fingers crossed that all would remain rose-tinted for my lovely cat.

Casper was obsessed with crossing the road outside our house. I used to say to Chris that I had no idea why, as there was absolutely nothing of interest on the other side. It was as if he had a nosiness gene. I’d sometimes watch him from my window with my heart in my mouth as he narrowly dodged a car. He was behaving the same way he had in Frome: always trying to nip out, always trying to be at the heart of things.

It was bad enough when he ventured out during the day, but when he started disappearing overnight, it was even worse. This was a new development in Casper’s wanderlust; perhaps he was just spreading his wings (or paws). His travels had all been so successful in the past maybe he thought it was time to try a few night-time excursions. I never knew if he’d be there in the morning when I came down, though eventually I did manage to piece together a few things to get some idea of where he’d been.

At the bottom of our garden was a building where the sails for HMS Victory, Nelson’s famous flagship, had originally been made, but it had been converted to a block of offices. One day I got chatting to a lady who worked there. As we talked, I saw Casper boldly trotting down the road to the offices.

‘Oh, there’s Casper,’ she remarked, as my eyes popped open wider.

‘How do you know him?’ I asked.

‘He’s always hanging around where I work,’ she said. ‘He’s like our little office mascot.’

Is he, now? I thought to myself.

‘We all like to have a little cuddle with him when he pops in, give him a few treats and suchlike. He often hangs around all day and the girls in the office just love having him around.’