IF CATS COULD TALK…
In a new series about the secret adventures of cats, we hear about a Maine Coon who led a double life.
As we delve into the mysterious adventures of cats, we hear the story of a cat who led a secret double life.
With their independent natures and unique characters, cats are more than capable of having adventures where their owners don’t know what they’ve been up to — that’s what this series is all about. We’ll be delving into the mysterious tales of cats where we’ll never know the full story, but what we do know has left us thinking ‘if only cats could talk…’
We get underway with Kathryn Hearn telling of one of her own cats who
led a secret life.
LEO’S ARRIVAL
Our Maine Coon Leo was a huge cat. He stretched 44 inches from nose to tail and we often joked that he wasn’t far off being the longest cat in the world. He was majestic-looking, with thick, glossy fur, huge green eyes, a long plume of a tail, and a swagger rather than a walk. For a cat, he was truly massive — and he had the personality to match.
He adored our family, spending as much time as he could with my children doing whatever they were doing, ‘helping’ my husband mark his pupils’ books, and curling up on the sofa with me. But as much as we thought we knew him through and through, we later discovered that he had a secret life that we knew nothing about. A secret life that we would not find out about until after he died.
We had never had a pedigree cat before Leo came into our lives and from the day we got him, we were all besotted with him. My daughter Jess, who was 10 at the time, named him Leonardo DiCatprio, or Leo for short. He meowed all the way home from Doncaster to St Albans but as soon as we took him out of his cat carrier, he walked around the whole house, inspecting every room — and made himself right at home.
From the start, he was the perfect pet, getting involved with everything that was happening in our home and wanting to be with us all day — or so we thought. Leo particularly loved following my daughter and son, Matthew, who was 12, around, joining in with everything they did. He snuggled up to cuddly toys, he knocked over Lego buildings (again and again), he slept in the dolls’ house (with his head sticking through the door), and disrupted games of Monopoly by jumping on the board and knocking off all the tiny houses.
One sunny day, we got the paddling pool out and Leo was intrigued. We could see where the old saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ came from as he jumped on to a boogie board and floated around the paddling pool happily, as if
all cats were made to surf. We realised then that he loved water and liked nothing better than sitting in a puddle in the bath, playing with a dripping tap.
Leo was a beautiful-looking cat, but more than that, he was incredibly friendly and laid-back so we decided to dip into the world of cat shows. Loncoon Red Hot Shot, to give him his pedigree name, was nonchalant about the whole business, sleeping and being relaxed throughout the day. He carried off first prize in his section and division in every ring, and enjoyed the fuss and meeting so many people. He
even qualified to make it to the Supreme Cat Show at the
NEC in Birmingham, where we decorated his cage like a circus, with Big Top drapes and a lovely cushion for Leo the lion! Unfortunately, our grooming let him down.
“Very greasy,” said the judge when she examined him in the ring and we hung our heads in shame, feeling like we’d let him down. But the best cat in the show is always the one you go home with — and Leo really was the top cat in the world in our view. In fact, we decided to add to the family when Leo’s mum and dad had another litter.
We put our names down for a stunning silver boy called Ollie (Ollie Purrs after Olly Murs) and the breeder gave us his sister Lizzie, who was a cream shaded beauty. She had been the runt of the litter and had been hand-fed.
Ollie and her had bonded together. Leo greeted them like long-lost friends, giving them a good lick, and snuggling up with them.
SIX DINNER SID
There’s a well-known children’s book called ‘Six Dinner Sid’ by Inga Moore about a black cat who fools six people into thinking that he’s their cat and so manages to get six dinners a day (probably what every cat dreams of). That is, until the day he’s found out. When we went away for a few days, the cat sitter’s twice daily visits were not enough for Ollie, who strolled into a house four doors up belonging to an older gentleman, lay down on the kitchen floor and went to sleep.The next day we were still away so he returned to this neighbour’s house, but this time he brought Lizzie with him, and that’s how they spent their days until we were back home.
We joked about the pair of them being like Six Dinner Sid and not really being loyal to their owners, unlike Leo. But little did we know how wrong we were! When he’d been out in the garden, Leo was in the habit of walking into the hall and, with his very loud voice, meowing. Whoever was at home would reply “Here, Leo” and he’d trot up
From the start, he was the perfect pet...
to wherever you were. Only over the years, his meow had slowly transformed until it sounded like he was saying ‘Helllllooooooooow.’ Many visitors were baffled by this and my cousin who was alone in the house once spent a few hours worried, searching rooms and locking doors thinking that someone else was in the house somewhere! If only his vocabulary had extended to a few more words he might have told us about his secret life, but then, being a cat, even if he could have, he probably wouldn’t.
One day, Leo didn’t come home for his tea — and that was really unusual. We made missing posters with his picture on, knocked on doors, and posted appeals on social media for people to check their sheds and outbuildings. Some neighbours from further down the road knocked on our door. “Can we help look for him? We’re very fond of him,” they said. “He’s often in our garden sunbathing and sometimes nips in the house if it’s raining.”
We were surprised but grateful for their help as they took some posters and knocked on doors to see if anybody could help.
One house a few streets away knew him well too.
“Oh, he’s our favourite,” said the woman, and her little girl smiled at his photo on the poster. “We didn’t know his name but we call him Ginger. He usually drops by around lunchtime and he lets us stroke his head.
“We’re so sorry that he’s missing. Please do let us know when you find him. He really brightens our day.”
STREET CAT
Twenty-four hours passed without any news but we kept looking around the neighbourhood.The phone rang and we wondered if this might be good news.
“Hello, I saw your poster for your missing cat. I live around the corner and know your cat very well.” It was an elderly woman on the phone, her voice upset about the news of Leo’s absence. “He used to come to our garden every day and he would sit by my husband and do whatever he was doing.” She said that her husband adored him and looked forward to his visitor and the inquisitive cat following him around joining in with whatever he might be doing, whether pottering around the garden, doing some DIY, or just relaxing in the sun in his favourite chair.
She continued: “We used to joke that he was our daily gardening help. Sadly, my husband passed away last year. But your cat has kept visiting and every time he visits, he sits next to my husband’s chair for a few minutes, as if my husband was still there. It’s a strange thing to say, but it’s brought me comfort over the past months. It looked as if your cat was remembering him and paying his respects.”
Then we realised that while we thought we had Leo to ourselves, when we were out at work and school, he was busy visiting his other families — and bringing joy to so many people in the neighbourhood. He had a secret life that we never could have envisaged.
The next day, I found Leo two gardens away, in a sunlight spot beside a hedge. He looked so peaceful, like he was asleep.The vet said it was probably a heart attack.We were heartbroken.We updated Facebook, removed the posters, and let his other families know what happened. Different neighbours had heard the news and came to our door to say how sorry they were. “He was a beautiful cat and such a character,” they said as we shed a few tears together.
Leo was indeed an amazing cat — with an astonishing secret life that we probably only scratched the surface of. We still wonder what tales he could have told us about his different friends around the neighbourhood and his different adventures he got up to, if only he could have talked.
He was busy visiting his other
families...