Susan Finden - Casper the Commuting Cat - The True Story of the Cat Who Rode the Bus and Stole Our Hearts

The office block wasn’t his only new hangout. There was a family a few doors down the road from me who had actively been encouraging Casper into their cottage. When another neighbour told me about this, I was quite confused – he was clearly someone else’s cat, as they could see from his name tag and disc, but perhaps, like me, they couldn’t resist any visiting cat even if it had a perfectly good home. I felt it was asking for trouble with this cat in particular though, and it probably contributed to his wanderings. I plucked up the courage to go and speak to them and, lo and behold, when I got there, who should be lying in a basket by the fire but Casper.

The woman who lived there had bought it especially for him, but when I asked her whether she thought he was homeless, she admitted that she knew he lived with me. It felt as if he were a tug-of-love cat and I was going to have to fight for him – my chances were good, as the lady was heavily pregnant. I had to ask her to stop making her home quite so attractive to him. Casper was a clever enough cat but he was bound to be confused with the house move, the new roads and now a complete stranger inviting him in to a nice new bed. I asked her if she could please stop doing this and, if he visited again, to encourage him gently to return to his own house.

He continued to wander, and I suspected that he was still visiting his nice other bed, but I couldn’t keep haranguing this woman, who was only being kind. However, there was a lingering feeling, perhaps some sort of sixth sense, that made me concerned about those particular trips.

One day in March 2005, Casper had his breakfast as usual and then went out after about ten minutes. From what I can tell, he then wandered down to the car park beside the office block from where he could often get over the wall into the house and garden of the family who’d bought him his new basket. However, instead of disappearing for the day, he came back within the hour. As I was standing in the kitchen, tidying away the breakfast things, I heard a strange snuffling noise, like hedgehogs make. I opened the back door only to see my darling Casper covered in blood.

His face was almost unrecognizable. All I could do was grab him in my arms and run to the vet. The news was awful but it could have been worse. I was told that he had definitely been hit by a car and, although he had no apparent fractures, his jaw and mouth were both very bruised and he was extremely lucky to be alive. As he was cut and shaking with shock, he had to stay in overnight.

For the rest of his days, Casper’s lower lip area always had a black mark where he’d been hit and he dribbled slightly whenever he ate or drank. I had to keep an eye on him in case he developed sores on his lip. I couldn’t help but think that he had used up one of his nine lives with this accident. He was very lucky to have got out of it with only a few scrapes. ‘Oh, Casper,’ I whispered to him one night when he was safely at home, ‘you’re always going to give me sleepless nights, aren’t you? I don’t think I’m ever going to be settled with you around, young man.’

I went back to the house that Casper seemed so drawn to and asked the lady once more if she would please stop encouraging him – knowing full well that if Casper was determined, both she and I would have quite a job stopping him from doing whatever he pleased. I was terribly worried by the fact that he had probably been hit trying to get to this house with the comfy new basket, and was so relieved when the woman said that she would keep her door closed to her little visitor and not let him in, even if he turned those pleading eyes on her.

As I suspected, it wasn’t long before Casper threw a cat-shaped spanner in the works. Although he must have been very confused to have been given a new bed one day and faced with a closed door the next, he soon found a way round it. I discovered that he climbed onto the slanted roof of the house and got in through the bathroom window, which was always open. It was only when the woman had her baby and found Cassie in the airing cupboard one day that she made serious attempts to keep him out, and he finally got the message.

Casper may have had barred from one of his haunts, but he still had the attention of the women in the office block. Sometimes as I walked past, I would see him on the car park wall, surrounded by admirers, who would all clap him as he lay in the sun. His accident had me worried though, and I printed lots of posters to hand round the local offices, asking people to look out for him and make sure that he wasn’t locked in overnight. I also wanted to make sure that everyone knew that he had a loving home, so they weren’t tempted to take him away – that was one of my biggest fears, as he was such a friendly cat. The poster read:

PLEASE HELP!

You may have noticed a black and white

cat in the car park or in the offices.

He is called Casper and he is wearing

a collar with two tags on it.

Casper is very friendly and as quick as lightning.

Can I ask you to be vigilant for him and check

that he is not locked in overnight? He comes from

a loving home and we would really appreciate

whatever little you can do to help us keep him safe.

Thank you.

Wherever we’ve lived, Casper has caused trouble and I’ve always had to appeal to people’s good nature, asking them to be vigilant. Sometimes they have been more than happy to help; on other occasions, as I would later find out, they would take offence and suggest that I was trying to get others to look after my cat, which was never my intention.

Casper didn’t have to be out and about to be naughty. I remember one Christmas Day when I thought I’d be terribly prepared and get the food for Boxing Day ready in advance. I took out pork chops and sausages to defrost for the next day’s dinner, but I must have been full of Christmas spirit to think for a second Casper wouldn’t help himself. I didn’t hear a thing, but somehow he managed to knock the top plate off and help himself to a few mouthfuls. All I could think about was that he might get food poisoning, so I quickly cooked all the meat for the cats to have as their Christmas Day treat. I suspect the others put him up to it.

Any time I was frying sausages, he’d appear from nowhere when he heard the sizzle to sit beside me, almost on tenterhooks, looking as if he hadn’t been fed for a year. It always worked, and he always got his way. There were other times when Chris was away that I would treat myself to dinner in front of the television. As I sat there paying more attention to what was on the box than what was on my plate, I’d often see a paw reach up, quietly and swiftly, and grab something.

Casper would eat anything that wasn’t his. One day, after a long road trip, Chris and his friend Martin decided that they would have fish and chips. We were both in the kitchen, and while Martin popped to the loo, Casper helped himself. Martin came back to find a cat sitting in the middle of his chips, licking his lips happily.

I wonder whether his need to eat anything, any time, was a product of his past? Maybe he never knew where his next meal was coming from; that’s why we indulged him so much. It wasn’t just me – whenever Chris came home, he would do so with a package of blue cheese for Casper. We never begrudged him anything and I’d do anything to be able to buy him his little treats again.

Apart from food, Casper’s other great love was gadgets – a typical boy! I used to tease him with the DVD remote control. I’d press the button as he sat there staring at the machine, and he would catch the little tray that holds the DVD as it popped out. Just as he got his paw on it, I’d press the button again and slide it in as he sat there with his head to one side, looking confused. He’d sit there for ages, watching as it went in and out, in and out. Sometimes he would realize that the VCR was close by too, so he would give up his reconnaissance mission for a few moments to stick his paw into the videotape slot, then trot back to the DVD player again. Perhaps we should all spend more time getting such pleasure from simple things – it certainly worked for Casper.