Let me introduce you to Thorn. A witches cat? Maybe. What I do know is that this animal has fallen into a soup of badness more times than I care to remember. It might not be his fault. He was born at the Summer Solstice on the night of a full and wild blue moon. So he was always going to be a little out there. This was 18 months ago. Since when, he has wandered around Stroud with attitude and abandon, tipping up at the most bizarre places. I then get a phonecall, or my dear neighbours do, and we have to go and rescue him. He sits in his personal taxi-cab while being driven home, unrepentant and yawning loudly, while I deliver my 100th lecture to him on taking responsibility, learning some manners, blah blah, catty blah....
Regular haunts have included: the maternity hospital, Weavers Croft, the general hospital (favourite departments are A&E, physiotherapy, rehab), the Fleece, the Trading Post, Bar Riga, the sheltered housing on London road, Bendicks chocolate warehouse, and the Nelson St. Rehab in Brimscombe (where he sat in their office intray for several days). And of course, countless homes where he takes full advantage of unsuspecting victims' hospitality.
The upside is that I have met some lovely people along the way, and remembered that people are generous and kind, and always so, so willing to help; and I thank them all. But really, what CAN I do with this wayward beast? Other than surrender to his free spirit and wanderlust. Maybe it is just our family??????
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