Rachel Wells - A Friend Called Alfie

‘I guess so. But what can I do about it?’

‘You can be a big brother to him, like Aleksy, Henry and Toby all are. It’s a very important, responsible role.’

‘It is?’

‘Of course, you’ve seen how much our human big brothers take care of the little ones, and it’s a role that I think you are ready for.’

I noticed that Elvis and Nellie were listening and trying not to grin. We all knew the way to get George to agree to anything was flattery.

‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘you would probably make the best big brother ever.’

No,’ George said. Which surprised me.

‘Why not?’ I asked.

‘He doesn’t live with me so he can’t be my brother.’ He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

‘What about a cousin then?’ Nellie suggested. ‘I’m like an aunt to you, George, so how about you be a big cousin to Pickles.’

‘That’s a great idea, Nellie.’ I nuzzled her in gratitude.

‘But what do I have to do as a big cousin?’ George asked.

‘You can teach him things,’ Elvis said.

‘Yes,’ Nellie added. ‘You are a cat, and he’s a dog, but there’s still plenty you can show him.’

‘You mean that I can teach him things that I can do?’ George at least sounded interested now.

‘That’s right, George. You can also show him how to be kind, how to be caring, all the important lessons that we taught you,’ I added.

‘And what about you? You can’t be his dad because you’re my dad,’ he said, and I heard jealousy rearing up in his voice.

‘If you’re like a cousin to him then maybe I can be a bit like an uncle to him. Does that sound OK with you? Because you are my son, my number one and you always will be, understood?’

‘Yes, you’re right, we need to be nice to Pickles. He can be my friend, after all.’ George hopped around, and even I was surprised by the sudden change in attitude.

‘Oh George, that’s so great, and you’ll grow to love him, I’m sure you will.’ I crossed my paws he would anyway.

‘After all, I have a very big heart,’ George said.

‘You do,’ Nellie agreed, in the motherly way of hers.

‘The biggest,’ Elvis added, he was a wise cat, when he felt like it, as he licked his paw.

‘And I am proud of you every single day,’ I added, as emotion overwhelmed me.

‘A bit like how I was friends with Hana when she moved from Japan and was lonely, I can try to be the same with Pickles. But Hana’s my best friend, so I won’t like Pickles as much as I like her.’

‘That’s OK.’ I sensed the need for baby steps.

‘You’re right, Dad. Pickles is a silly puppy, who doesn’t know anything, right?’

‘I’m not sure about the silly part but yes,’ I agreed. Actually, he was silly, but I was trying to get George to bond with him, not tease him.

‘So, I need to teach him everything I know,’ George added.

‘Exactly,’ I agreed.

‘I will do what you asked, and I will start tomorrow morning. I’m going to teach Pickles catting.’

‘Eh?’ Nellie said.

‘It makes sense. Pickles is a dog, and everyone knows they’re not as good as cats, so I will increase his chances by teaching him to be like me.’

Nellie, Elvis and I blinked at each other. It wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but seeing as I had somehow led him to this place I couldn’t argue. I didn’t have a paw to stand on after all.

‘It’s more about teaching him things you know,’ I reiterated.

‘And I know how to be a cat. So that is what I will teach him. I’m going to teach Pickles how to be a cat, and I just can’t wait to get started.’

The education of Pickles would have to wait because we had headed next door to Sylvie’s for a Japanese night. The night started out badly when Jonathan was late, because of his new job, which led to an angry hushed exchange at our house between him and Claire. I knew it was because he wanted to change out of his suit, but Claire said he didn’t have time, and that he should have left work earlier. I could see both points, Jonathan was working hard, which he had warned us he would have to, but the reality wasn’t as easy as the theory, it seemed.

Sylvie served up some wonderful Japanese food, including raw fish – sashimi – for me, Hana and George before the humans were seated. It was delicious. When Sylvie hosted Japanese night, as many of our families who could make it usually attended. Tonight Polly and Matt couldn’t be there, and Tomasz was working, so it was just Claire and Jonathan, Franceska, her children, Aleksy and Tommy, along with Harold, Sylvie, Marcus and Connie. And us cats of course. Our children were being looked after by our babysitter, Rosie, who lived on our street and helped out for us all from time to time.

‘Who’s hungry?’ Sylvie asked, ushering everyone to sit around their large dining table where the colourful food was laid out waiting for the humans. I wanted to bound over and get stuck in, but I had to show Hana and George manners, so I held back, although my mouth was literally watering from the taster I’d enjoyed beforehand. Harold made a huge fuss of George as usual as he slowly made his way over to the feast.

‘Have you got any bread? Any English food?’ Harold asked, once seated. He insisted on coming to Japanese night, but he refused to eat the food. Perhaps there was some hope of an extra portion?

‘I’ll get you some, Harold,’ Connie offered. ‘Would you like a sandwich?’ she asked, sweetly.

‘If you insist and a nice bit of ham wouldn’t go amiss,’ he mumbled.

‘Anything for you, Harold,’ Sylvie said. She was so calm and patient these days, which with Harold you had to be.

‘Wine?’ Marcus asked, filling up glasses with a warm smile.

‘Yes please,’ Tommy asked, and giggled. Out of the two boys he was the most likely to get into trouble.

‘Tommy, you are far too young,’ Franceska chastised, ruffling his hair in her maternal fashion.

‘As are you, Connie, before you get any ideas,’ Sylvie added but it was all in good humour. Tommy was nearly thirteen, and Connie and Aleksy almost fifteen, growing up so fast. When I first met Tommy, he was still in a pushchair. Goodness, that made me feel old.

‘So how’s the puppy settling in?’ Marcus asked.

‘Ah, he’s gorgeous,’ Claire said. ‘So sweet and so much fun.’

‘But not as gorgeous as our George,’ Harold said, and I purred in agreement.

‘I can’t wait to meet him,’ Connie added. Claire had organised a sort of ‘welcome to the family’ party for him at the weekend, which of course annoyed George. His whiskers had definitely been put out of joint.

‘I know, I haven’t even seen him yet,’ Jonathan added. ‘Working long hours means I barely see my own family let alone the new puppy.’ He sounded sad, and I did worry about him. He and Claire said it would only be like this while he settled into his new job, and I just hoped it wouldn’t take too long for things to change.

‘But the weekend will be lovely, having us all together,’ Claire reiterated. ‘Harold, you’re definitely coming, aren’t you?’

‘As long as we get some normal food,’ he blustered.

‘Luckily we don’t get easily offended,’ Marcus laughed. But we were all used to Harold’s ways, and we loved him for it.

‘Then after lunch, we can watch the footie together, Harold,’ Jonathan said.

‘Now, you’re talking.’ He grinned.

‘Can we do anything?’ Sylvie asked.

‘No, all under control, just bring yourselves,’ Claire beamed.