Pooky: The beginning

Category: Pooky Published: Tuesday, 13 March 2018 Written by Butterfly Wing

Pooky. My first cat. I named her Pooky after Garfield's teddy bear, and I guess she was kinda my teddy bear. Teddy cat? Pooky cat. I still remember the day that I got her. I went to the Edinburgh Cat Protection League in Leith to get a black cat. I always wanted a cat, especially a black one.

There's still a lot of stigma surrounding black cats, although apparently in Japan they're meant to be lucky! But in many places, people believe they bring bad luck. And seeing as I stick two fingers up at all that hocus pocus, and well black cats are just so pretty, I wanted one. But it was not to be. None of the black cats there had any interest in me. But there was this young, barely adult cat that was determined to come home with us (me and my then boyfriend). This young tortie was following us around the pen, rubbing her wee face on the cage wire and basically willing us to take her with us. Well, she and this other older cat called Charlie, who was segregated into the overweight cats area. After much deliberation and musing, the little tortoiseshell cat (called Penny at the time, I think?) and old Charlie went home with us. Penny was renamed Pooky after Garfield's teddy bear, but Charlie stayed Charlie as she was much older and we were told she probably wouldn't take to a new name.

We were told that Pooky had recently had kittens but the rescuers couldn't find them anywhere, despite a thorough search. Poor Pooky must've lost them somehow. Even when she came home she was still behaving as if she were looking for something, probably her lost kittens. She would go into little nooks and crannies in the flat, behind the sofa and books on the helves and under the tables. Poor little thing. Barely an adult, had kittens and then somehow lost them.

When the two cats got home, they did not get along. Well, Pooky was more inquisitive more than anything, and just wanted some TLC. Charlie, on the other hand, did not want to share their new house. She would bully Pooky out of the way when Pooky was sitting on my lap, and eat Pooky's food. She refused to use the same litter tray as Pooky and ended up weeing on the carpeted floor in the bathroom of my rented flat (that didn't allow pets). Oops. It, well, kinda smelled ... really bad.

Poor Pooky was pretty traumatised, and probably as a result of being bullied by Charlie, she developed a kind of hatred towards other cats and an eating problem. Anyway, my then boyfriend and I broke up and out of spite, he took Charlie ... without even asking me which one I wanted. But that was fortunate, in a way, 'coz I got to keep Pooky and we grew together. She became my little teddy bear. She didn't really like to be cuddled all the time, or being lifted and hugged, but she tolerated it. But a bond grew between us, and I was her mummy. And when she needed comfort she came to me. When I needed comfort, I would cuddle her and be close to her. She tolerated it. I don't know how much cats could provide comfort, but it was enough for me that she was my little fluffy friend. This is the story of how Pooky came to me.