It was November 14th, 2012 when I first brought home Tom, my rescue cat. Three days earlier I had decided that I needed someone for company and that someone must also need me. I visited the local Cat and Dog home, walked around looking at the cats and stopped at the one that I knew needed someone.
The Cat and Dog home, part of the Scottish SPCA, always give a name to every animal that comes in if the name is not known but in this case, because of the state of him, covered in dirt, flea infested, scared of eveyone, starving and with a running sore on the back of his neck where he had probably been bitten he was not expected to survive, so they just called him Tom.
Tom had been given all of the injections that were required and had been nursed back to a condition where they thought him suitable for adoption. I paid the£50 fee and was given the paperwork that informed me that Tom was a domestic short hair cat, male, black and white and aged 1 and a half to two years, microchipped and no known illness. Actually I was hoping for an older cat that I would hopefully out live.
I discovered very quickly that Tom did not care for humans and was prepared to stand up and fight any that he came in to contact with and the very many scratches that covered my hands and arms bore witness to this fact, when I first attempted to get him down from the top of a wall cupboard in my kitchen that he had decided was his safest place. I decided to just leave him there and make sure that there was food and water available for him when he wanted it, the plate was always empty the following morning. Unlike today when he is the most fussy cat on earth, he stole and ate any foodstuff that I accidentally left out and this included two whole bars of milk chocolate. It took a long time before he would let me stroke him and any sudden noise, move or visitors made him return to the top of the cupboard.
It was in February 2013 that I first noticed the running sore in the back of his neck that had returned and knew that I must take him to the vet and with the use of thick garden gloves I managed to get him in to the carrying basket. Tom was as good as gold with the vet who examined him a gave hin two injections and cream to apply twice daily, He also told me that Tom was about 7 years old.
It took a while, probably 8/9 months, but eventually Tom accepted me and it got to the point where he followed me everywhere and insisted on sleeping beside me.
In March 2014 a ginger kitten appeared in my, and Tom's, garden. eating the bread that I had thrown out for the birds.
This was the start of a friendship and play fighting that continued every day and I knew by then that she belonged to the women and her three children that lived in the house oppsite, to my house, untill August. Miss Ginger dissappeared. Tom roamed the area and was obviously searching for her, at all other times he sat on the windowsill watching, he ignored my calls and ate less food. Tom was pining for his pal.
I have found out since that Miss Ginger was given away by the woman because her new boyfriend was allergic to cats.
Tom is still pining and still sitting on the windowsill night and day looking for her. It breaks my heart, How do you explain to a cat