Felix The Railway Cat

He gently eased the door open a bit wider and looked down. And there, at the bottom of the cupboard, spread luxuriously across the Briscoes’ best Egyptian cotton towels, like a film star in a perfume advert, was his eleven-month-old, black-and-white cat, Lexi. When he’d gone to bed, there’d been one heavily pregnant cat slinking about; now, as he peered down at the wriggling shapes surrounding her, he counted five minuscule kittens and one very happy cat.

Lexi was an affectionate pet, the only cat Chris had ever known who licked him, and she’d become even more so during her pregnancy. While she’d been carrying the kittens she’d barely moved five feet away from Chris: if he sat down for an instant, she’d climb on to his lap; if he got into bed, a moment later he’d feel the warm, solid weight of her as she snuggled down on top of him. He’d known her time was near, so he’d got a special flocked cat bed for her and tucked both that and an old blanket away, somewhere private, so that she could give birth in peace and comfort when she felt ready to do so. Lexi, however, had clearly had other plans – thus the little family currently sprawled out on the softest, most expensive towels known to man.

Chris crouched down and examined his lovely, tired-looking cat and her new children. He reached into the mess of kittens and first checked Lexi over, then did the same with the newborns, making sure that their airways were clear and that their mum had nipped off the umbilical cord properly; all was as it should be. Everything was grand. There was no hissing or biting from Lexi as he did any of these checks; she wasn’t that kind of cat. Instead, she happily nuzzled each tiny kitten as it was returned to her, making sure they were all well.

There were five of them: three tabby cats and two black-and-white ones. The latter were so similar that it was almost impossible to tell them apart. They looked the absolute spit of their mum: mostly black, but with almost identical markings to Lexi – a white V-neck bib, and white paws that looked as though the kittens had dipped their paws in paint; or perhaps, given the elegance of their bedding, had slipped on ivory-coloured kid gloves. In fact, all five kittens had those tell-tale white paws: a family trait that had come through strongly in each and every brand-new cat. Having just been born, their eyes were shut tight, and they mewed only for their mother, who attended diligently to each one.

Having made sure all was well, Chris gently closed the door, leaving it just ajar, as Lexi had wanted, before he and Joanne left them to it.

Lexi’s pregnancy had come as something of a surprise to the Briscoes. They owned two cats, Lexi and Gizmo. Both had been found abandoned on a council estate up near Collingwood, and were taken in by Chris and Joanne as they were looking for a pair of cats to help with mousing. Their house had a massive garden and they’d set aside an area at the top of it to keep chickens and a couple of golden pheasants in an ornamental cage. Because of the grain for the birds, mice had soon taken up residence, too, and since the Briscoes hadn’t wanted to put down poison to address the issue, a duo of cats was the answer.

Gizmo was an enormous cat, mostly white but with a black head (though white face) and black back. Lexi was half his size. Though he’d been taken in for mousing, he was absolutely idle – so laid back, he was laid down – and daft as a brush. He was a huge, fluffy cat who was patient and kind.

When the cats had first arrived, given they were rescue moggies, the Briscoes hadn’t known how old they were. They set about getting them inoculated and had taken them into the vet’s to discuss getting them neutered and spayed respectively, as they didn’t want any unexpected litters. The vet had looked up from his examination of Lexi and told them somewhat bluntly, ‘You’re too late.’

Sixty-odd days later, here they were with five gorgeous little kittens.

As the kittens were surprise arrivals, Chris now set about putting the word out that there were five kittens going spare, who needed rehoming once they were old enough to be separated from their mum. Joanne Briscoe also worked for TPE, as a customer host, so both she and Chris tried to spread the message far and wide on the railway network. Their son said he would take one of the tabby cats, and then a train dispatcher from Manchester got in touch to say she’d like the other two tabbies. Only the black-and-white pair were now without a new home to go to.