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

I was delighted by the news that Casper would officially be mine. The Cats Protection lady said that the details on the chip records would be changed immediately to reflect the change in ownership. From that point, I felt that Casper was genuinely mine, but I often wondered what sort of life he must have had.

As time went on, we found out more about him: how he seemed unafraid of traffic, how much he loved cars and lorries and how dogs left him totally unfazed. I picked up a few other hints from the cat rescue lady, and when I pieced it all together, the most likely scenario seemed to be that he had lived with a travelling community. By saying this, I’m not casting aspersions on people who choose that lifestyle, but if Casper had been moved from pillar to post, then it wouldn’t have been the best environment for him, but it would explain why he had no fear of other animals and why he was drawn to vehicles. Still, as with so many of my cats, I would never know the full story. I would simply have to ensure that while he was with me I gave him – and them – the best life possible and didn’t dwell on the past.

I wondered where Casper went. There would be days when he stayed nearby and would come as soon as I called – or when he got a whiff of turkey roll – but there were other times when he wouldn’t come back for hours no matter how long or how loudly I called his name. He had such wanderlust.

He had little fear of dogs, which worried me, as I thought he might meet his match one day. He would lie in the grass wherever we lived and never flinch when dogs went past. In fact, one summer, a neighbour had a lovely little spaniel puppy she used to walk at the same time every day. The puppy would strain at the leash every time it got to our garden path, where Casper lay idly watching the world go by. I think he was desperate to play, even with a cat, but Casper never flinched and never raised his hackles. He looked at the puppy as if he were just another pedestrian going about his business.

Some time after we got Cassie, we moved to Frome in Somerset. I always worried when we changed location, as it can take cats a while to get their bearings. I tried to keep them indoors until they realized they were in a new home and they had some idea of the new smells and sounds around them The old cottage we bought had a huge stone wall around it, which Casper couldn’t get over by himself. Every time he managed to sneak out, he would have a jolly good try at scaling it, even though it was impossible. Eventually he discovered a gate, which, though closed and locked, he could squeeze around. On the other side of the wall was a car park linked to the local doctor’s surgery, and I worried that he was hanging around cars again. However, it was clear that it would take a greater force than me to keep this cat indoors, so I had no option but to let him wander every now and again.

I’d discovered by this stage that I was suffering from some quite severe health problems and I needed heart surgery. Before that could happen, I had to get my blood pressure down, so I was visiting my GP quite a lot. One day I arrived for my appointment and checked in at reception. I was directed to the waiting area as usual, and as I walked towards a chair, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Casper.

He was sitting, bold as brass, on one of the plastic seats, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I had an early morning appointment and no one else was there yet – thankfully. ‘Casper!’ I whispered sharply. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ He gave me a lazy look, as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain himself, then settled back down again. I looked around quickly, expecting to see a receptionist bearing down on me with demands to get Casper out immediately, but the room remained empty. I gathered him up in my arms, all the while telling him what a naughty boy he was, and took him into the car park, shooing him in the direction of the cottage.

When I was called in to see the doctor, I was surprised that my blood pressure wasn’t through the roof. All I could think was that Casper had trotted into the surgery before me and had hopped onto a chair while I was talking to the receptionist. I felt very relieved that they hadn’t spotted him on this one-off occasion when he had been so cheeky.

The next week I was back at the practice for more tests and I was running a little late. When I got there, I was told to go straight through. There were a number of doctors on duty, all with offices attached to each other. As I sat there with the blood pressure cuff around my arm, discussing the results of my previous tests, I almost fainted when I heard someone in another room shout, ‘Get that cat out of here! This is a surgery not a pet shop!’

I knew it was Casper. After all, how many other cats were likely to be doing exactly the same thing he had done? I couldn’t jump up and say that I was off to get my cat, so I got through my appointment as quickly as possible and hurried home, only to find Casper innocently waiting for me on the doorstep.

After I had seen Cassie a few more times at the practice, it became clear that, despite the doctors being less than happy when he followed patients in for their consultations, the staff were well aware of his presence and were relaxed about him being there.

One day I gathered up the courage to raise the issue with a receptionist when I was making my next appointment. ‘Erm . . .’ I began, hesitatingly, ‘do you know there’s sometimes a cat in here?’

She smiled as if it was the most natural thing in the world. ‘Yes, yes, we do,’ she said. ‘Isn’t he lovely?’

I couldn’t argue with that. ‘Well, actually, I think he’s mine,’ I admitted.

‘Is he? Is Casper yours?’

We had a little chat and she told me that he was in quite often, that they had got his name from his disk and that, as long as he kept out of the doctors’ rooms, they were all generally happy to have him there. This astounded me – how kind and how eccentric at the same time. Only in Britain would a strange, wandering cat be seen as a normal addition to a healthcare practice. My heart lifted at the thought of how kind these people had been to Casper while I had been living in blissful ignorance.

The receptionist told me there were lots of patients who’d commented on how nice it was to see Casper; when they came in stressed or worried, he managed to distract them for a little while. The more I thought about it, the more I felt this was probably why he was so welcome.

I’d heard of programmes that took animals into hospitals to help long-term patients, as they can help lower blood pressure, reduce stress and release ‘happy hormones’. In fact, at the world-renowned Great Ormond Street Hospital, there is a pet therapy project that brings animals in on a regular basis. The hospital has visits from guinea pigs, kittens, dogs and even once a Shetland pony. The medical staff has found that young patients feel much more relaxed and comfortable, even in such a difficult environment, when furry friends are around. Across the country there are thousands of pet therapy dogs and cats who’ve done amazing work, and I felt, in his own small way, that Casper was achieving something similar. The irony was that while he may have been helping the blood pressure of other people, his escapades and travels were making mine worse!

What was amazing about Casper was that he expected to be allowed to go anywhere he wanted. He never seemed to show nervousness about walking into any place that took his fancy, despite many of them being less than cat friendly. I didn’t expect him to read the signs for the surgery or whatever, but surely most cats would have been put off by strange buildings full of people they didn’t know? Not Casper. Perhaps he saw the stickers saying that no dogs were allowed and took that to mean that cats were more than welcome.