THE SAUSAGE THIEF
You just couldnt miss this cat, honestly. Mainly because hed sneak into my little corner shop and do a bit of shopping of his own. And he had such a way of doing itso charming you couldnt possibly get angry. Quite the opposite, actually.
I actually found myself looking forward to his antics. Id get my phone out and film the whole show, then play it to my wife in the evening. Wed cry with laughter every time. So heres how it went:
The cat would linger outside the shop with the doors open, pretending he was just popping by for a restnot up to anything fishy at all. Hed look around to make sure the coast was clear. Meanwhile, Id be hiding behind the big fridge, trying not to giggle as I filmed it all.
Hed creep in carefully and head straight for the sausage display. Then, as if he was making an Olympic dash, hed grab a sausage or one of the fat Cumberland bangers and make a run for itbut hunger would always get the better of him. Just a few metres down the pavement, hed stop, plonk himself down, and tuck in.
Id step outside but keep my distance and shout, Tasty, is it?
Hed look up, give a little meow as if to say, “Absolutely.”
Well, thank goodness for that, Id reply, grinning. Come back anytime.
Now, youre probably wonderingwhy have sausages just sitting there on the counter with no fridge, and easy to pinch? And why are the bangers and sausages all loose and separate? Very simple, really: Ive just got a soft spot for animals.
He was so skinny and scruffy when he first turned up. But no matter what I tried, he wouldnt come close to me, let alone take any food from my hand. So I decided to help him in a way that let him feel respectablelike hed worked for it, honest and proper.
So at first, Id leave a sausage just by the doorclose enough for him to grab himself. Id even named him Oliverafter Oliver Twist, cheeky little thief that he was.
It worked a treat. Eventually, I started moving the sausages further inside until, finally, they were all the way by the counter with the rest of the food. I set up a little feeding station at the bottom shelfright at cat level, so he could nick his supper as he pleased.
Oliver couldve just walked in, taken what he fancied, then trotted off, but I think he enjoyed the whole escapade; lets be honeststolen food always tastes better!
I later put out a water bowl, a big dish of the best kibble, and even set up a plastic litter tray outside the shop. I built him a little shelter too, with an old fleecy blanket insidesort of like a doghouse, but just right for a suspicious cat.
He still wouldnt let anyone pick him up, but he did enjoy a good old chat. Id follow him out after he’d pinched a sausage and start up a conversation. Sometimes, between mouthfuls, hed look up and meow as if joining in.
There was just one mystery bugging me of late. Oliver had clearly put on weight, his fur was glossy, and he didnt really need to steal sausages anymore. Yet, like clockwork, hed snaffle a couple twice a day and disappear round the side of the shop.
I tried to follow, but hed always give me the slip. So one day, I set up a little camera by the alley. I linked it to the computer in my office. And finally, I found out what Oliver was up to.
From a basement window just around the corner, out popped a tiny ginger kittenshivering with excitementwho leapt straight on the sausage Oliver had dropped off.
That evening, my wife was in pieces, sniffling and dabbing her eyes. You have got to bring them both homedid you hear me? Both of them!
But it wasnt that simple. Catching Oliver now was a piece of cake (hed got so comfortable he sometimes napped in the middle of the shop), but the kitten? No chance. At the first sign of a human, hed zoom off like a comet.
Days rolled by. On the camera, I watched the little ginger one drink Olivers water, sometimes nap in his tiny kennelbut always leg it at the slightest movement.
Until, one day, I heard an odd squawking noise at the entrance to the shop. There were no customers in, so I walked over to check it out.
There, on the doorstep, was the ginger kitten, yelling his little head off. Whats up, mate? I chuckled.
He ran over, looked me right in the eye, then scampered off round the back. Instinct took overI followed without thinking. Just round the corner, there was Oliver, moaning in pain. Some dog had bitten him on his back leg. Hed managed to get free, but it looked nasty.
The ginger mite nuzzled into Olivers side and wailed again.
Oh, for heavens sake, I muttered, half laughing, half worried.
I took off my jacket, wrapped Oliver inside, scooped up the ginger kitten (who, for once, didnt struggle), popped him in my blazer pocket, and dashed to the car. Locked up the shop and headed straight to the vet.
We spent five hours there while the vet patched Oliver up. By the time we left, the little ginger onewho Id named Sparks (because he was a right little firecracker)was busy bouncing around the waiting room, playing with anything he could get his paws on.
That night, I shut up shop and brought both Oliver and Sparks homeOliver still a bit groggy from the anaesthetic. My wife was over the moon. And you know what women do when theyre happyshe rang every single friend she had. There was no stopping her. Every call, more tears and laughter.
Finally, when she hung up, there we all were: me, Oliver, and Sparks, sprawled out snoring on the bed.
This is ridiculous, she joked, where am I meant to sleep?
Sparks happily shuffled over and snuggled up to her, kneading her with his little paws. Thats how our family grew.
Nowadays, the two lads are chunky and content and dont look anything like the scrappy strays they once were. Sometimes, Oliver still washes Sparks like he used to, and Sparks doesnt mind a bit.
And over the road, outside the shoe shop, theres a little grey tabby whos taken up residence. The lady who works in the shoe shop is always dashing over to ours to pick up food for her.
Maybe one day shell bring her home too? Maybe, in the end, everyone will have a cat, until cats are so rare you have to get on a waiting list and take special classes first.
What do you reckoncould that ever happen?