Sam & Laura - Memories of Family Felines

Today we're getting creative with member Laura and Support Worker Sam as they share a purrrfect story they've been working on during their recent sessions! 🐈

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Earlier this year, during the first national lockdown, we introduced you to member Laura and Support Worker Sam; whilst they usually spent their sessions going to the cinema or out for coffee, they'd been getting incredibly creative over Zoom whilst at home - reasulting in some amazing stories (which you can read the first of here). This time, they're presenting a brand-new feline inspired story (completed in the same way, week-by-week) with accompanying drawings!

I remember Razy was a really nice cat. Not only was he so lovely that even when the younger grandchildren pulled his tail or teased him, he never ever bit them back. I was so grateful to him. I was terrified that that big cat would bite one of them.

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Razy was lovely company for Grandma Wren in Lowestoft. Grandad would go out for golf days or to help his son who had opened his own pharmacy. Grandma Wren was out of the picture on that. She was fine though, because she could sit at home and she had Razy. He was somebody who she could relate to. I always liked knowing she had that rapport with him.

Razy was such a lovely docile cat. He was the brother of our first cat Gin. (Our cat now is called Baileys. I blame it on the Grandparents because their cat when my mum was little was called Shandy).

Gin was Razy’s little sister. She was really cool. I’ve always felt female cats can handle themselves better, in a more mature way. They know more about the world. She knew what to do and how to take care of herself. I liked having another female in the house.

Cats are a type of lion after all. And lions can take care of themselves, with their bite-you-to-death teeth and their good ol’ claws. Going to a girl’s school, we got used to cattiness.

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I did love Gin, because she was our first pet really. She was ever so pretty and she was grey and had white paws. I remember every time we went on holiday and had to put her in a cattery, we always got endless compliments about how beautiful our cat was – as though we were responsible! One of the ladies said it wasn’t just that but also how kind Gin was to the other animals in the cattery. She must have been raised well.

I knew there was a naughty streak in Gin too, which always tickled me. When we took her to see Razy at my Grandparent’s house, she nicked a fair bit of his munch. I thought, No don’t do that! Cause I was thinking about myself and my brother. But then I remembered that Gin was older than Razy. Even though Razy was a big cat, Gin certainly knew that she could take care of herself. I almost felt, Yeah girl power! Go for it! Because it was that era.

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It's a magical bond that a person has with their pet, it’s hard to express in standard words. It’s like trying to describe the indescribable. It’s your love from yourself, a human, towards a completely different animal, the cat. But it is that special rapport you have with that creature that is almost indefinable in the way of its beauty.

Oh well Bailey Boy is just a legend. I love him so much. I always felt out of the picture with Gin because I wasn’t around when she was young. I missed out on the raising a kitten part. I would have loved to have brought Gin up as a baby.

So I was just so happy when we got Baileys because I thought, now I’ve got a young cat that I can bring up. You don’t just think of your family pet as an animal, they’re a creature that you love and can share experiences with.

Baileys has got a little chunkier as the years have got on. Generally as a boy cat, they can get away with it, cheeky buggers. You think about girl cats that always have to be thin. You think about the fashion world where models have to be stick thin. There are boy cats who are complimented for being as big as a tiger. But for girl cats it’s embarrassing if they can’t fit through their cat flap. That’s just the fashion industry for you. Why do the boys get it so easily?

Baileys is the most comforting because sometimes when I’m feeling a bit low or if I’ve had fits in the night or have been ill, he is the first to come up to my bunk bed and say a little hello to me. It’s ever so sweet. He bothers to climb up my bunk bed ladder and sits there so I can stroke him. That rapport is so indescribably perfect.