It must be nearly 20 years ago now, when we decided that it would be a good idea to have a cat and so the four of us (two adults and two kids) paid a visit to the local RSPCA cat rescue center. Naturally the girls wanted to save them all, but one stood out literally above the rest. Sat on a perch disdainfully surveying the herd meowing for attention below was a stocky cocky almost mockingly reserved Tabby who held my gaze totally as I walked by. One look into that steady gaze told me this was a cat above the rest, a cat able to look after himself. Something special. We made the right noises and got not just the Tabby but a lovely little small girl cat who sadly died a week after we got her home, leaving the tabby, who after much thought we named Percy Cat. He liked people to a point and would take just so much fuss and then watch out and he spent most of his time out and about doing whatever it is cats really do. Even on the coldest or wettest night he would have to be called in for his own good. He was not feral as such, but damn close at times. Funnily he suited us fine and joined our wandering band of minstrels in our odd journey through life.
I think all told we moved six times and Percy graciously deemed fit to tag along. A simple cat with simple needs his rules were also basic. Feed me, get lost when I tell you to and save me if I call. The rest of the time Percy got on with his patrols of his grounds and punishing any other cats, rats or vermin that dared to intrude. In the role of guardian their was none better and when we lived on a farm for a year or more he loved nothing more in life than to be left alone in a barn with a stack of hay to lay on and a pack of country rats to fight. his numerous minor flesh wounds and tattered ears showed his battle honors. So, impressed was the farmer he offered money for Percy saying he had never seen a better "Ratter". I had to agree; I had once watched him dive off the top of the hay bail head first into10 or so rats and his speed in dispatching his quarry was simply amazing. The Rats thought so too; those that survived!
Percy was an adventurous chap and many times managed to get locked into a garden shed or someones car. I remember I was once in the back garden and could hear him Meowing away and I kept calling back until I found him in a shed two gardens away. I think we formed a bond really, as it was always me he would pad to if there was something wrong, I was the only one who could comb him and twice when he was very seriously ill it was me who found him, but my wife who took him to the Vet. Lisa loved him as did Zoe and Tasha, but Zoe it was who fed him and let him in on cold nights. Many the time i can remember hearing Zoe's voice out of her velux window calling softly "Percy......Percy... Ah there you are, come in its cold" and the little fellows meowing as he came in and settled on her bed for the night. Those two had a bond and it was Percy and Bob who knew all Zoe's secrets. Bob is our Cocker Spaniel whom we rescued from a very nasty women who was going to put him down. Bob soon found his place in the house following his first meeting with a swift right cross from Percy. Ever after that when Percy came in Bob lay down. Wise dog. In the main they rubbed along just fine by totally ignoring each other.
Eventually old age got the old lad and he was put down in Lisa's arms and buried in a bit of a sun trap in the back garden and wrapped in a nice war blanket. He was a great cat and a bench mark by I measure all other cats. He was a very English Tabby was Percy..
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