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

When Sue and Chris arrived, most of the others I shared with ran to have a look. They were keen to make themselves presentable, which is all very well, but as I knew I was naturally friendly and loving (when I chose to be), I didn’t see any point in being part of the beauty parade. Instead, I thought I’d be canny, so I watched to see their reaction.

The lady seemed to be the one making the decision, but I was delighted to notice that they were both very kind and caring towards all of my friends. As I listened to their chatter and watched their reactions, I was pleased. These were people I could easily learn to love, but there was a problem: I had grown extremely fond of Tuppence and didn’t really want to leave him behind if I chose to move on.

Thankfully, as I looked on, I could see that Tuppence was making a very good impression. They were discussing his looks and temperament, and everything appeared to be going very well. The lady of the house was telling them that Tuppence had a friend – yours truly. At that point, I stood up from my lunch bowl, stretched and began to wash myself.

Now, to be honest with you, washing isn’t something I can always be bothered with – no sooner does it seem to be finished than it’s time to start again. As a result, I often feel it makes more sense to wait until it absolutely can’t be avoided. However, I know that humans put great store in such behaviour on the part of cats (although humans never seem to lick themselves), so I felt it prudent to indulge them.

While I was very keen to make sure I went with Tuppence, I was drawn to Sue when she seemed taken aback by the name I’d been given. For some reason to do with the large black box full of moving pictures that humans stare at for hours on end, I was being referred to as Morse . It wasn’t a name that suited me terribly well and I was delighted to see that Sue thought so too. That boded well.

Tuppence was placed in one transport container, and one of my friends was unceremoniously removed from the other. I was put in her place, and off we went. I felt I had chosen well.

I was taken to a warm and welcoming house, and my new mum was very careful to ensure that I was as comfortable as could be. Tuppence settled in very quickly, but I was amazed to find that there were as many cats in Sue’s place as there had been in my last home – or so it seemed. The smells and sounds of any new accommodation can be frightening, and I needed to make sense of where I was. I hastily beat a retreat upstairs and into the first room I saw.

There was a bed to hide beneath and I determined to stay there until I felt more secure. Both of my new parents were as kind as could be – they brought treats and frequently tried to draw me out, but I would come out only in my own time. If this was the place where I was going live, I needed it to be on my terms.

My mum visited me every hour and did all she could to make me happy. From this I could tell she was indeed a good person, as I had suspected from the start. She brought me some morsels, which were very tempting. All in all, she was teasing me out with her kindness. The ultimate weapon she had was the one that finally brought me out from my hiding place. As she called me by my new name, I knew I was in the place I was meant to be.

Casper . . . that was me!

CHAPTER 3

Our Family

Casper may have had a new name, but he wasn’t too impressed with his new home. He had come into a house full of other cats, although he wouldn’t have known that from his hiding place under the bed. The cats had arrived via different routes and with varied histories. I hoped that Casper would venture out soon so he could meet his new family.

At the time, I was working in a centre for adults with learning disabilities in Weymouth. A few years earlier, one member of staff, Bill, had opened up a cat rescue centre to try to help local kitties. Bill came in one morning to say that they had a geriatric black cat being advertised in the paper the next day. He was hoping to get a good home for him, as he was such an old fluffy darling; he was sure that he would settle well and be a fantastic addition to any carer’s life.

My husband Chris is a long-distance lorry driver and was away on a job that day. When he called me later that night, I was full of stories about Bill’s cat. No sooner had I finished telling him than he simply said, ‘If you want him, Sue, have him.’

I was delighted and skipped into work the next morning to beg Bill, ‘Please, please, can we have the cat you were telling me about?’

He laughed at me. ‘You could have saved me the money for the newspaper ad if you’d said that yesterday! I’d be over the moon if you took him, and I won’t even have to do a house inspection, will I?’

We arranged for Bill to bring him round that night. I already knew what I’d call him – Jack, as in Jack Daniels. At that time, all our cats had ‘boozy’ names, which makes us sound like a right pair; we’re not raving alcoholics, I just liked to have a theme. As always, I was excited waiting for the cat to arrive. Receiving a new member of the family is, to me, as thrilling as waiting for someone to have a baby. Although I’d already chosen the name of this cat, I was still thrilled to find out what he would be like, what his personality would reveal to us and how he would get on with the others.

When Bill brought him in, I was struck by how beautiful this cat was, but as soon as Bill put him down on the carpet, I noticed he had wobbly back legs, which gave him an unusual walk. In fact, he fell over quite often as he walked along. The vet Bill used for the rescue centre said that he had arthritis, but it didn’t look like that to me. I’d had cats who’d suffered from the condition and this seemed different.

Jack settled in very well and it wasn’t long before we felt as if he had been with us forever. He was good-natured and caused no trouble. Everyone who visited loved him. Like me, they didn’t know what to make of his strange walk. I was mystified, until one day a friend called Peter came round for a coffee and saw Jack for the first time.

He watched him for a while, walking around with his distinct wobble, then said, ‘That’s Edmund.’

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘I know that cat,’ Peter said, ‘and he’s called Edmund.’

I scoffed at him How could he know my cat?

‘Well, there aren’t many cats who walk round Weymouth like that, falling over every two minutes, are there?’ he replied.

My heart sank. If Peter knew him, then he must belong to someone and wasn’t just a stray Bill had picked up. If he belonged to someone, then I’d have to give him back. This was always my concern when taking in cats from rescue centres: perhaps they were lost rather than abandoned, and, if they were found one day, I’d have no choice but to give them back. I would never knowingly keep a cat from its rightful owners, no matter how much I cared for it. I said as much to Peter, who immediately put my mind at rest.

‘No, Sue, you’ve got no worries in that department. I’m thrilled to bits that you’ve got him. He belonged to this couple I knew – George and Hilary. Their marriage was rocky from the day it started and it didn’t get any better. Poor Edmund, or Jack, was a casualty of their divorce, really.’

Peter told me that when Hilary left, George felt he couldn’t look after the cat as well, which is why he ended up in the rescue centre. Hilary was now living in the area again, and Peter was able to get in touch with her to say that we had Edmund/Jack. If she wanted him back and could offer him a safe home, I’d have to let him go.

My heart was in my mouth as I waited to hear from Peter. He said he would do all he could to contact Hilary quickly, but as the days passed I got myself into a terrible state, wondering each morning whether it would be my last one with Jack.