Meet Norman the feline doorman!
Six years ago, tabby cat Norman was the first arrival at a new RSPCA animal centre. Now an essential part of the team, he tells his story to Katharine Wootton...
Who’d have believed in 2011, when I first made my dramatic entrance to RSPCA Canterbury, that I’d be sat here drooling at the thought of the turkey dinner I’ll be enjoying to mark my sixth Christmas as the centre’s resident – and definitely most famous – cat. It was Boxing Day that year and the paint had barely even dried on the new centre when I found myself in a bit of a pickle. It’s all a bit fuzzy now, but I think I got run over, then blacked out in a nearby shed where I’d gone to lick my wounds. Luckily, a man found me and rang the RSPCA who took me to the vets. I was a bit of a mess as all my paws were torn and I’d sadly lost a toe. Nevertheless, the vets worked their magic and I soon had four rather fetching, brightly coloured bandages on my paws. They took great care of me and, after a couple of weeks, I was ready to go to the RSPCA Centre for rehoming, where I was their first arrival. Some of the centre hadn’t even been built yet but I soon set about making myself at home, especially when the RSPCA’s attempts to find my previous owner proved unsuccessful. I discovered the bed of the manager, who lived onsite, was particularly comfortable and would probably just about do... But really, I liked nosying around the whole five-acre site they’ve got here and, as more animals and humans arrived at the centre, I was sure to say hello to every single one. Luckily for me, the Norman charm paid off and soon the RSPCA decided to keep me on as their resident cat. Since then, it’s a job I’ve taken very seriously. You’ll find me mainly on the reception sofa – where I like to greet everyone who
comes in – so much so that I’ve now been nicknamed Norman the Doorman. I like everyone; cats, rabbits, even dogs. I’m quite a chilled-out guy and not much fazes me. But my absolute favourites are the kittens and I end up wasting hours of valuable eating and napping time staring at these fascinating little bundles of fluff because they’re just sooo cute! I like to think I’m something of a father figure to them. Day-to-day, though, my
main priority is patrolling the car park and sniffing out all the new people. As the man about the place, it’s important the RSPCA girls have someone brave like me keeping an eye on who’s coming onto our patch. Problem is, I sometimes get carried away and on a couple of occasions an open car door has proved just too tempting to resist. So far, though, I’ve always been spotted happily sprawling out on their backseat before the car drives away. Oh, and did I mention I’m a celebrity columnist? Norman’s News goes in our local paper, The Canterbury Post, every week and already I’ve attracted quite a following of fans, including one lady who draws pictures of me to give out as cards. Everyone treats me like a Prince, but I always make sure I return the favour. Night after night, I leave presents of local wildlife I’ve caught for our centre manager, Beth. She never thanks me, though. Two people who do appreciate my mousing efforts, however, are my girlfriends and fellow resident cats at the centre, Betsy and Belinda. I must be quite a catch as both girls always want to sleep wherever I am and follow me round wherever I go, so much so that I sometimes wonder if someone’s secretly smothered me in catnip. Betsy can be a bit nervy but Belinda’s a whizz of a secretary – her best skill is sitting on the papers our office staff are trying to look at, which I know they find incredibly helpful.
‘Lucky for me, the Norman charm paid off and the RSPCA kept me as their resident cat’ Beth Hixson (left) Centre Manager and Norman’s best friend, says: “Norman is definitely the boss around here. he has the run of the place and is always joining in meetings and any events we do. he’s so happy and loves meeting people. so many people have asked if they can adopt
Norman but we’d never let him go now. this is his home for life.”
The three of us are getting excited for our Christmas treat, which is usually a chicken or turkey dinner enjoyed in between helping the staff look after the poorly animals throughout the festive period. Then once it’s all over, the girls and I will crash out on the sofa to dream of chasing mice and patrolling cars. I’m a lucky old thing, aren’t I?
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