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

It didn’t take long for people to start offering me ‘new’ cats. I’m sure that many of them meant well, but there was no way I could bring another cat into my life within days of Casper dying. It wouldn’t have been fair on the new arrival as I was still grieving, and I would have felt I was betraying Casper. He couldn’t be replaced so quickly or easily – no cat could. They’re all individuals with their own characters.

Apart from that, I was also left with a terrible fear of the road. I’d always worried that Casper would be run over as he went about his daily adventures, but now the worst had happened, what was to stop another cat being killed? Although I have loved all my cats dearly and would never have been without the experience each of them has brought me, I can’t deny that every loss takes a little piece of my heart. We all have an enormous capacity to love, but losing so many beautiful animals has made me realize just how high the emotional cost is.

I’m not alone in thinking this, of course. As the letters and messages started to pour in from around the world, I quickly recognized that loss knows no geographical boundaries. Many people told me about their pets, but one young girl really touched me with her story of those she had loved and who had sadly passed on.

Dear Sue –

I hope that you don’t mind me writing to you at a time when you are probably still very upset about Casper When I was six, me and my little brother went to a cat rescue centre and got three kittens. They were all so beautiful – although they were very different from each other, they were from the same family. Molly was tiny and like grey velvet, Freddie was much bigger with grey and white stripes, and Oscar was a tabby. They all had really different personalities too – when we got them all home, they were too small to climb the stairs, but they soon got really naughty and Oscar would take a running leap from one end of the room to the other and claw his way up my mum’s back! Freddie liked to make holes underneath the sofas for them all to hide, but Molly was the one I loved most. She chattered away all the time and we used to pretend she was moaning about things. She was such a dainty little lady, about half the size of her brothers, and she would disappear for ages, only coming back when she felt like it, with lots of complaining to do – and sometimes smelling of perfume! We wondered where she went and whether she had another life somewhere.