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

Off we drove on the empty Sunday roads to meet Casper, without realizing what was going to happen to our lives. In retrospect, I wonder how I would have felt had I known that I was about to welcome into my world the cat who would change it. As with most momentous changes, I was blissfully unaware, thinking of nothing more than the happiness I always felt in welcoming a new animal into our home.

This particular cat home was linked to Cats Protection but it was a private house rather than a shelter. It was run by an elderly lady in an impressive 1930s property, which she shared with the cats. She lived upstairs and eighteen cats had the run of the downstairs.

When she invited us in, we were immediately surrounded by all these creatures, sniffing us and rubbing against us. They were clearly perfectly happy, even though they were pretty much left to their own devices. They were all mixed together but there was a very relaxed atmosphere. While we there, I wasn’t aware of any fighting, hissing or spitting – which seemed a good omen. The house was big enough for them to have their own space if they wanted it, or to hang around with a friend if they preferred. The only problem for us was going to be how to choose from the many cats there. Chris and I had taken two wicker cat baskets with us, and there was no way I was leaving without my new companions.

The lady said it was feeding time and we followed her through to the kitchen, where there were stainless steel dishes, for water and meat and crunchy snacks, dotted around everywhere. She put enough food into each bowl to feed four cats, although it was a bit of a squeeze. We stood there watching them, hoping for inspiration or for one of them to come over to us.

After a little while, Chris nudged my arm with his elbow and raised his eyebrows towards the window sill. We both looked over and the cat lady noticed. ‘Oh, that’s Tuppence,’ she said, indicating a big white cat with black markings and the most beautiful blue-green eyes. ‘He’s a lovely boy’ she continued, ‘very inquisitive and friendly. He came from an elderly gentleman who loved Siamese cats and Tuppence was the only one who wasn’t that breed. I think he must have a bit of Siamese in him though, because his eyes look exactly the same. He’d be perfect for you.’ We both thought so too. I liked the way he was watching everyone, biding his time until things calmed down. I agreed that he would be ideal, but whom else should we take?

‘He’s got a friend, you know,’ said the lady, as we picked Tuppence up and popped him into the basket. ‘Come on now, Morse, where are you?’ she chatted, looking around at the cats on the work surfaces.

‘Morse?’ I asked.

She laughed as she explained to me that this fellow had arrived at her door one evening as she was watching Inspector Morse on TV and she’d thought it was a sign that she should call him Morse. The name jarred with me straight away. As soon as she pointed out the beautiful long-haired black and white cat eating his lunch, I knew he needed a new name – I also knew he was the one for me. If you’ve ever chosen a pet, you’ll know there are some animals you simply connect with immediately. I felt it the moment I looked at ‘Morse’. I glanced over at Chris.

‘What do you think?’ I asked.

‘It’s up to you,’ he said. ‘He certainly is a very good-looking cat.’

I went over to stroke him and he started to purr. ‘Hello, my darling,’ I whispered. ‘How would you like to come and live with us?’ He nuzzled into my shoulder as I picked him up and walked to the cat basket. When we got there, we found another cat had taken up residence.

‘Come on, Georgina,’ shooed the lady. ‘That’s not for you; you’re staying here with me.’ My heart sank. The poor little thing had clambered in; she clearly thought she was coming home with us.

‘Tuppence and Morse will be perfect together,’ the lady said. ‘Morse has been here for ten months. I don’t know why no one has taken him. He’s a lovely cat. So many people seemed on the verge of giving him a home then changed their minds at the last minute.’

I looked at Georgina in the basket but, listening to the cat lady’s words, I couldn’t help feeling that Morse had been waiting for us. As we walked out with him and Tuppence, I felt such a pang for the cat we’d left behind. To this day I regret not taking her, but even at the time I knew we had two new boys in our lives who were perfect for us.

When we got back to Weymouth, the cats shot upstairs as soon as we let them out. Over the course of the day, it became clear that Tuppence was a dreadful bag of nerves, although he seemed to crave affection from us.

As for Morse – well, that cat was one for the vanishing act! He wouldn’t come out from under the bed no matter what I tried – not even for food. I called his name. I made smoochy noises. I told him how the other cats desperately wanted to meet him, hoping that he would understand every word. None of it worked. As soon as I saw him edge out slightly, he’d spot me and dart back under again.

‘He’s fast, isn’t he?’ commented Chris as he walked downstairs after yet another failed attempt to retrieve Morse. ‘That’s quite the disappearing act he’s perfected there.’

Chris was right. My arms were aching for a good old cuddle with this cat, but he was making me wait. Suddenly, it came to me, ‘Chris!’ I shouted. ‘That’s what we’ll call him; that’s what his name should be – Casper the disappearing ghost!’ I crouched down on the floor for the last time that night and peered into the big eyes shining out at me.

‘Hello, Casper,’ I whispered gently, ‘welcome home.’

CHAPTER 2

Finding Mum

Casper

Humans like to be in charge. They like to think that they decide things, that they determine what will happen and when. I find this most amusing, as any cat knows it is us who has them under our paws. As I’m very fond of people, I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt and see their need for control as one of their many little foibles.

When Sue and Chris came to the house where I lived on that day in December 2002, I wasn’t sure, at first, whether I would choose them. They, in turn, thought they had complete freedom to pick whoever took their fancy when choosing ‘their’ cat. How funny that humans think that way!

The place where I lived was comfortable and safe. It was a large building with plenty of space for me and my fellow cats, and we all got along well. There were lots of us and we stayed downstairs while the human kept to the top part of the house, where there was nothing of interest. The lady who thought she was in charge did have some strange ways. Despite the size of the house, and the availability of rooms, she chose to feed us from far too few bowls. She expected four of us to share each one! As we obviously couldn’t go into the cupboard to get more, we were gracious enough to accept this arrangement. However, I think it indicates the curious nature of some human behaviour. Would you want to share your breakfast, lunch and supper plates with individuals who had been complete strangers not so long before? I didn’t think so. Thankfully, cats can be very adaptable – when we want to be.

Humans also have a tendency to talk to us cats constantly. Do you think we can understand your strange warblings, or are you doing it for your own benefit? Whatever the reason, the constant one-sided conversation, which our carer had been having since first light, had brought to our attention that a prospective mum and dad would be arriving today, and that they were called ‘Sue’ and ‘Chris’.

I’d been staying in that house for some time and was quite happy there to begin with. I’d made some good friends, especially with a lovely fellow called Tuppence, and never felt inclined to go home with any of the people who had previously come looking for a feline. However, things change, and I was beginning to hanker after a smaller house where I would have my own bowl and my own bed, and could concentrate on making sure things were exactly as I liked them.