Mrs. Pepper's Cats-8

The final chapter of this Novelette.

Chapter 8

Marmalade and Havana

(Ill Fated)

 

Pets, as pet owners, including Mrs. Pepper would testify, are both a joy and a constant worry. Owning cats brought so much pleasure to Mrs. Pepper but over the years their antics and experiences left Mrs. Pepper worrying constantly in the back of her mind about their safety and welfare. Both Marmalade and Havana had been in scrapes which at times had left Mrs. Pepper with her heart in her mouth, and relieved when each incident was settled and they were both at home when she secured the cat flap and toddled off to bed each night.

Nothing was more worrying though for Mrs. Pepper than dealing with a poorly cat. From time to time both would show signs of 'being under the weather'. Mrs Pepper had pet insurance to mitigate the cost of vet bills which could soon mount up. And she ensured they had their recommended annual vaccinations, check up, and every three months gave them worming tablets.

But nothing prevented nor prepared her for the shock of arriving home from a weekend away to discover Havana at deaths door. As she unlocked the front door sure enough Marmalade was there to greet her and scold her loudly for leaving them but, unusually, Havana did not appear. She thought it curious but no more than that as she decided Havana might have gone to the kitchen to eat and drink. She put her weekend bag down in the hall, took her shoes off and went to the cloakroom to hang up her light jacket. She then headed for the lounge with the intention of giving her Felidae friends attention to make up for her absence. Marmalade ran ahead of her excitedly, anticipating as much. As she went into the lounge she spotted the dark fur of Havana just visible in the cat basket. The usually frisky feline was motionless and did not stir to the sounds or voice of her mistress. As Mrs. Pepper crossed the room she could just make out the slightest rise and fall of her ribcage and thus she knew her to be alive. She bent and gently put her hand on her cat's head but apart from opening her eyes momentarily Havana did not move. In fact Mrs Pepper could tell that she did not have the strength to lift herself out of her collapsed position.

After an initial few seconds of panic, where thoughts of digging a grave and burying her dearly loved feline flooded Mrs. Pepper's imagination, she started to go through a process of logical deduction.

Havana was alive. She was breathing, although it was barely perceptible. Therefore something could be done. She rushed to the garage and retrieved the cat carrier, placed the faux sheep-skin inside and carefully lifted the debilitated cat and placed her carefully inside, before turning the securing catches. She put on her coat and shoes and put the carrier in the front passenger foot well of her car, before setting off for the vet's surgery.

 

When she arrived she explained to the receptionist her cat's predicament and was ushered in to an examination room within a few moments. The vet examined Havana by weighing her, looking at her coat, her eyes and ears and her bottom. She inserted a thermometer and took a reading. She asked Mrs. Pepper several questions about Havana's general health and diet then took a blood sample before withdrawing from the room.

After about ten minutes she returned telling Mrs Pepper that Havana had an infection, was dehydrated and needed to be kept in the surgery over night to have intravenous antibiotics and rehydration. 

Next morning when Mrs. Pepper arrived to check on her adored cat she was fearful of the worst. But when the vet called her in she told her that Havana, who was in the room and back to her normal self, had suffered a pyrexia of unknown origin and that the fluids and antibiotics had worked. She gave Mrs. Pepper some prescribed medication and Royal Canin Recovery, a special tinned cat food high in nutrients. She thanked the vet and with a sigh of relief hugged her 'moggy', carefully squeezed her into her cat carrier, got into her Volvo and headed for home.

But nothing could have prepared Mrs. Pepper for what happened a few months later. It was October. Mrs. Pepper was preparing to go sailing on a two mast wooden Turkish Gulet,  cruising the eastern Mediterranean, and had 'broken up' from work. It was a Friday evening, the weather was warm and dry and she and her friend Simon had arranged to go to see a French film in town. Marmalade had just recovered from an ear infection and her vet had commended Mrs. Pepper for her diligence in nursing her through it. Havana was asleep in the cat basket when Mrs. Pepper sealed the cat-flap as she was about to leave. Marmalade followed her to the front door. She stooped to stroke her and whispered,

'Love you Marmie.' Mrs. Pepper's 'pet' name for her.

She shut the door, locked it and made her way to Simon's waiting car.

They had an enjoyable evening. Mrs. Pepper felt good at patronising the small independent cinema as it was a charity that also worked with a local university, supporting its film and media courses. Mrs. Pepper ate in its restaurant on a regular basis, taking advantage of the film and dine offer they marketed. By the time they had watched the film and had eaten, it was ten o'clock in the evening by the time they arrived back at Mongoose Barn.

Mrs Pepper said her goodbyes and thanking Simon breathed a sigh of relief as she was always content to return to the comfort and sanctuary of the home she shared with her cats. Havana was still asleep in her bed and rose to greet her owner, meowing and stretching herself out on the 'tickle rug' expectantly. Mrs Pepper obliged and stroked the happy creature for the regulation four to five minutes before the puss got up and nonchalantly sauntered off to the kitchen to graze and sup some fresh water.

Mrs. Pepper smiled at this and turned her attention to locating Marmalade. However her second charge was nowhere in sight. She looked around the cottage and when she drew a blank concluded that her lovely Oriental had exited as she herself had opened the door and turned to lay her keys down on the window ledge.

She prepared herself for bed then went to the front door and called out to Marmalade. She waited and listened and on getting no response she went to the side door and repeated the exercise, again to no avail. She went back to the lounge and sat and watched TV programmes in which she had no interest, on low volume. At just after midnight she found herself drifting towards sleep. She shook herself awake, made a thorough search of the cottage and went off to bed recalling the time Marmalade had gone missing previously and hoping, like then, she would turn up safe and sound. Never-the-less she had a deep sense of unease in the pit of her stomach.

Her sleep was fitful and she awoke with a start from a dream in which she looked over the side of the bed and there was Marmalade lying in a running posture. She got out and scooped her up in her arms, exclaiming'

"There you are!"

On awakening she felt an acute sense of agitation. She searched the house from top to bottom once more. Havana was her usual self, demanding and insistent on being petted. She stroked her for a few moments but in her distressed state she did not have the concentration or patience to continue.  She could not face breakfast, not even a tea or coffee. She quickly dressed and went outside to start her familiar search of the garden, shed, garage, immediate vicinity, and even though it had just turned eight thirty, to knock on the door of the neighbours she felt comfortable with.

Having drawn a blank she telephoned two friends, Simon who had helped the last time Marmalade went missing, and Bijal, Mrs. Pepper's closest friend, who travelled down from her home in a Market Town to the north of the City.

They decided to make a search of the lane which ran along the bottom of the farm track, linking the city outskirts to the village. They set off in opposite directions, Simon heading north west along the lane and Mrs. Pepper and her friend Bijal south east. They knocked on doors asking people if they had any sightings, Mrs Pepper showing a photograph on her mobile phone and Simon a picture that Mrs Pepper kept in a frame in the hallway of Mongoose Barn. They once more drew a blank and after two and a half hours reconvened at Mongoose barn for a light lunch and refreshment.

As they were finishing up and preparing to carry out the wider search they had agreed over cheese and pickle sandwiches and red wine, there was a knock at the door. A woman from the lane, who they had earlier questioned about sightings stood there.

"My son was raking leaves on the verge outside our house and he found a dead cat." she stated. "I am sorry but it looks a lot like the cat in the picture. I'll show you were she is" she concluded.

Mrs Pepper thanked her, fetched a black plastic bin liner from under the sink and dispatched Simon to confirm the finding. She could not bring herself to go, hoping by doing so, and feeling guilty for the thought,  it would turn out to be another cat.

When Simon arrived at the scene, directed by the resident from the lane, there was Marmalade, obviously dead. She was stiff and frozen in a running position. Simon carefully picked her up and placed her in the black bag, carrying her carefully back along the lane and up the long farm track leading to Mongoose Barn. When he arrived Mrs Pepper and Bijal were in the courtyard awaiting news. Mrs. Pepper knew the worst immediately on seeing Simon with his bundle, and ushered him through the house to the garden where he laid his package on the grass and carefully exposed the feline corpse. Mrs. Pepper was distraught but in her concern for Havana, she had read that animals who have companions who have died need to see and inspect the body for peace of mind, she scooped up Marmalade's sister and brought her out. Havana simply sniffed the cadaver and gave it no further attention.

Mrs Pepper shed a tear as she stroked her cold body. She noted that Marmalade had a swollen neck and blood coming out of her ears, but she appeared otherwise intact. They concluded that she had been struck a glancing blow from a speeding vehicle and died instantly, given her posture. That provide a small element of comfort to Mrs. Pepper.

She fetched a towel in which to wrap her beloved cat and Marmalade's favourite cat toy. Simon took a spade from the shed and they set off to a nearby plot of communal land within the development where Simon dug a hole in the stony ground, lowered into it the now towel wrapped dead feline, and placed a plank of wood to mark the spot.

After saying her goodbyes, Bijal and Simon helped a sad and distraught Mrs. Pepper back to her cottage. They finished off the bottle of Merlot, toasting Marmalade and wishing her well in her new life in the cattery in the sky.

Simon and Bijal shed a quiet tear too as they had both known Marmalade for many years and really felt for their close friend. They stayed another few hours, keeping the distraught lady company. Mrs. Pepper relayed her dream from the previous night to them, and postulated that Marmalade had died at the very time she was dreaming that she had seen her.

When Simon and Bijal finally left Mrs. Pepper snuggled Havana on her knee, laid her head on the arm of the settee and howled and sobbed until she slipped into an exhausted slumber.

It took her months to begin to settle into acceptance and even then she felt the loss of one of her 'children' very acutely. Havana continued to bring her joy every day and she continued to care for her as if she were her true offspring. The love she felt for her cats never diminished and for the next few years she still felt the pangs when she thought about Marmalade and how much she missed her.

Reviews

[Island Hippy]

Aloha John, a very sad conclusion, but wonderfully done.I thought something like this might happen, I'm glad Mrs. Pepper still has Havana though. It was a nice change to read a story like this. Very refreshing. Izzy

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you for indulging me Izzy by reading the whole Novelette. I am happy you liked it.

[Island Hippy]

You're very welcome it was easy to settle into

[wordman]

sad write john,great chapter

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you Ron. 'Mrs Pepper' still gets sad about it now, over two years later.

[The Iron Horseman]

Quite lovely but so sad. Very well written.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Thank you so much IH.

[The Iron Horseman]

You're welcome.