Kelda: Part I

Category: Kelda Published: Friday, 23 March 2018 Written by Butterfly Wing

Kelda

Kelda came to live with us just under a year after Pooky died. When Pooky first went, we didn't think we could ever have another cat again. It would just not be the same. No one would be able to live up to her. And in a way, it was kinda nice not to be sniffly all the time (we're both allergic to cats!).

But the flat just seemed to quiet. I mean, it wasn't even a big place, and when Pooky was around it wasn't as if she was a noisy cat. By the time she had gone, she was so old that she basically just slept most of the time. Still, she was never a very chatty and noisy cat. She was mostly quiet except for about when she decided it was meal time: Then she would like us know ... constantly and insistently. Anyway, this post isn't supposed to be about Pooky. It's about Kelda. But it's tough not to mention the beginning of Kelda's time with us without mentioning Pooky -  just gives it more context.

Anyway, Pooky had left a great big hole in our lives. The absence of her presence was just too much for us. But we didn't want to get a new cat too soon, as it wouldn't have been fair on the new cat to be constantly compared to Pooky (though that was kinda inevitable nevertheless). And we wanted to honour the memory of Pooky for a bit longer. I was beside myself with grief. But I also wanted a new furry friend.

So, after nearly a year of Pooky's passing, we started to talk more and more about the possibility of getting another cat, not to replace Pooky, but because we wanted another cat. We considered going to a cat shelter to get one, but seeing as mum and dad's house was pretty much a cat shelter anyway, we thought maybe we could take one of theirs. They were definitely keen for us to take one of theirs. You see, they were looking after something like eleven or twelve cats by then! They weren't even particularly cat people. But they just couldn't turn them away. More on that later, maybe.

So we went round to my parents' house and met all (or almost all, depending on which ones would grace us with their presence) of their cats. There were a couple of white ones that we thought we might take. One, a male cat, was called Sita and he was quite fluffy and seemed friendly enough but wasn't particularly interested in us either way. There was another white one, who we all called Angel on account of being a little missy who didn't get along with any of the other cats and kept to herself upstairs (in her little ivory tower, as it were). We wasn't interested in us, either. In fact, she actively didn't like us. It seems that she would only play with my mum. So, basically, she was mum's cat and would not let anyone else get close. There was yet another white one who was friendly enough but again wasn't that bothered by us either way. These three were all siblings, and we thought that getting a pure white cat would be different enough to Pooky that it wouldn't keep reminding us of her. So ... none of the siblings wanted us. However, there was this other cat: the outsider. She was not part of any of the litter of cats that my parents were looking after. You see, all the others were from the same mother cat. This one was an outsider - not part of the family. 

This marbly, tabby-ish greyish brownish cat was taken in by my dad 'coz he felt really sorry for her as she had been abandoned by her old human family. They had other cats too, but when they moved they left her. Just her. :( Poor little thing! When dad took her in, she had been eating from bins and was a scrawny thing. But by the time we decided we were gonna adopt a cat from my folks, dad had totally fattened her up. So she was quite chubby, and actually quite furry. She was the only one who came and paid us any real attention. She came and rolled about on the floor in front of us, baring her tummy to us. How could we refuse? She was kinda funny looking because of her slightly crossed eyes, and apparently she had a bit of a biting problem. Dad was the only one who could really touch her or lift her up, but he was happy for us to have her. And she came and put herself on display. So that was that. We took home this marbly tabby, who was called Simone at the time. We thought for a good like while, then came up with Kelda - from Terry Pratchett's Tiffany Aching books.

That was how Kelda came to us. And the biting problem? Oh that's real! More on that in the next part.