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

What Evie’s letter brought home to me was that, although my heart was breaking over the loss of Casper, the thought of her losing so many pets at such a young age, one after the other in such horrible circumstances, was horrible. I pleaded with her:

Please don’t say you will never have another pet. Maybe one day, somewhere, somehow, an animal will cross your path and you will feel that you can give it a loving home. You may have to wait until you are older, but you will know when the time is right. You love animals too much to say ‘never again’.

Her hurt sounded so deep. I recognized that she was afraid of loving a new pet if it was going to be ripped away too soon. But this young girl had hit the nail on the head: we do indeed pay a high price for having animals in our lives. Of the eight cats Chris and I had in our lives not so long ago, we now had two and each loss had taken something from my heart. Each time I vowed that I would never be able to go through it again, but I couldn’t be without cats in my life. I feel it is my purpose to give happy, loving homes to poor old things with little hope left and, if in the process I have to go through some hurt myself, that’s just the way it has to be. I couldn’t have a home without my babies. We were all put here for a reason and perhaps this is mine. I finished by telling her:

Your letter will always be treasured, Evie, and I will keep it forever as it was from your heart. As I said before, the hurt never ever goes and we don’t forget the pets we love, but somehow we do learn to adapt and loving is what many of us do best.

I hope my words comforted her in some small way, as hers had touched me. These people who were taking their time to contact me were managing to fill the gap left by Casper in a truly amazing way – the human kindness that was being sent to me in floods was changing the way I thought of the world, and I could take enormous comfort in that.

CHAPTER 29

The Kindness of Strangers

I had some decisions to make. The first was whether I wanted to see the photograph of Casper and me on the buses every day. Karen from First Devon and Cornwall had been very solicitous and worried that it might be too much emotionally. Despite the cost and the inconvenience, she reassured me that the company would comply totally with whatever I wanted. If I couldn’t bear to see Casper in happier times, then they would remove the posters immediately. I thought it over and did have worries that I might have to face some horrid comments if the images remained. However, the longer I considered it, the more I felt that it was perhaps a fitting tribute to Casper. He had loved those buses so much and the photos were delightful ones, so I decided to allow them to remain. I have had only lovely comments from fellow passengers. I still get a shock at times when I see them, but there are such happy memories associated with those days too.

The other decision I had to make was in relation to the driver who had killed Casper. As I’ve said, there is no law that requires someone in charge of a vehicle to report any accident with a cat, but I continued to be angered at the unfairness of this situation. If the driver had turned up at my door, I would have been upset, but if he had come to apologize, then I believe it would have made a difference and helped me to find closure. I couldn’t help but think that he had ‘got away with it’ – perhaps it wasn’t his first time, perhaps more families had been decimated by his carelessness. And, always, there was that fear at the back of my mind that it could be a child next time.

Both Edd and I contacted the taxi company to try to convince them that there had been a real loss, but there was very little interest. I met with denial, threats, lies and even a grudging acceptance. They admitted that their driver had been in Poole Park Road at the time, and had been driving very fast; however, they claimed that this was because he was taking a passenger to hospital. I checked this with the lady who had witnessed everything and she told me that not only had he been driving in the opposite direction to the hospital, but also that there had been no one else in the car. Their excuse was, according to the police, a confession that their driver had been responsible, but no action could be taken. There was nothing I could do, and that’s been one of the most difficult things to deal with.

With any sudden loss, there is the need to blame someone for the unfairness that takes the loved one from the life of the bereaved. In this situation, I knew who was responsible, and there had even been an admission of it, but still my hands were tied. No one cared. Casper was only a cat.

No, I had to tell myself – that wasn’t strictly true. The person who killed him didn’t care, but plenty of other people did and it was those good, honest, caring individuals who drew me out of my grief. The global hug I received in the wake of Casper’s passing was still holding me close. Every day, letters and emails piled up and each one told a tale of humanity and common purpose. It was humbling and it was so, so helpful. One lady from Australia wrote to me and I replied immediately, sending her some pictures of Casper too; her next letter showed just how important people felt it was to reach out at this terribly sad time.

Dear Sue –

Thank you so much for taking the time to write such a lovely letter I was very pleased to know that my card reached you as I only had your name and that you lived in Plymouth from the article about Casper in my local paper It certainly was a surprise as I didn’t expect a reply to my card. I just wanted you to know that other people were sad about the loss of Casper Thank you also for the photographs of him. I took them to work and showed all the girls, and we are all very sad about what happened to him. I am glad that you have decided to leave his photograph on the buses. I think that is a lovely memorial to him, but also I hope that rotten taxi driver sees Casper’s photo every day and is reminded of his carelessness and lack of compassion. I am sure he didn’t mean to run over him, but if he hadn’t been speeding he might have been able to avoid hitting him, and then not to stop to aid him was truly cowardly, and I do not understand how people can be so cruel. The fact that he almost hit a person as well, and that the company won’t do anything is just disgusting. It is a pity that the driver can’t be forced to own up and apologize. In this city, Adelaide, the law says drivers must stop and call the police if they hit an animal, regardless of what it is; hopefully you might be able to get this law in Plymouth.

By writing his story at least a little bit of good will come out of all the sadness. I see that Casper’s You Tube video has been updated; I watched it last night and had a cry. I suppose you wouldn’t be able to watch it, but it is a wonderful tribute to him, and I am sure that thousands of people who have seen it are sad as well.

My dear cats were Dolly Cat and Mr Sam. Dolly became ill last July, and I was taking her to the vet every couple of weeks for checks, then in the early hours of 27 September she suddenly died. She would have been eighteen on the 1st of December Then a couple of days later Mr Sam wouldn’t eat, so off to the vet again. The vet discovered a tumour in his bowel. He wasn’t in any pain at that time, but there wasn’t anything to be done to save him, so it was just palliative care. I was taking him to the vet every two weeks for injections to help his appetite and vitamins. I cherished every minute with him, and worried about him constantly. Then on 13 January I knew that he couldn’t go on any longer, so he was put to rest by the vet. He turned sixteen on the 1st of January. It has been heartbreaking to lose them both so close together I’d had them both since they were kittens and I miss them so much after all those years. I will eventually get another cat, as life without a furry person around the house is very strange, but I’m too sad at the moment and I need some time to get past the last six months.