when he wouldn’t come back for hours no matter how long or how loudly I called his name. He had such wanderlust.
He had little fear of dogs, which worried me, as I thought he might meet his match one day. He would lie in the grass wherever we lived and never flinch when dogs went past. In fact, one summer, a neighbour had a lovely little spaniel puppy she used to walk at the same time every day. The puppy would strain at the leash every time it got to our garden path, where Casper lay idly watching the world go by. I think he was desperate to play, even with a cat, but Casper never flinched and never raised his hackles. He looked at the puppy as if he were just another pedestrian going about his business.
Some time after we got Cassie, we moved to Frome in Somerset. I always worried when we changed location, as it can take cats a while to get their bearings. I tried to keep them indoors until they realized they were in a new home and they had some idea of the new smells and sounds around them The old cottage we bought had a huge stone wall around it, which Casper couldn’t get over by himself. Every time he managed to sneak out, he would have a jolly good try at scaling it, even though it was impossible. Eventually he discovered a gate, which, though closed and locked, he could squeeze around. On the other side of the wall was a car park linked to the local doctor’s surgery, and I worried that he was hanging around cars again. However, it was clear that it would take a greater force than me to keep this cat indoors, so I had no option but to let him wander every now and again.
I’d discovered by this stage that I was suffering from some quite severe health problems and I needed heart surgery. Before that could happen, I had to get my blood pressure down, so I was visiting my GP quite a lot. One day I arrived for my appointment and checked in at reception. I was directed to the waiting area as usual, and as I walked towards a chair, I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Casper.
He was sitting, bold as brass, on one of the plastic seats, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I had an early morning appointment and no one else was there yet – thankfully. ‘Casper!’ I whispered sharply. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ He gave me a lazy look, as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain himself, then settled back down again. I looked around quickly, expecting to see a receptionist bearing down on me with demands to get Casper out immediately, but the room remained empty. I gathered him up in my arms, all the while telling him what a naughty boy he was, and took him into the car park, shooing him in the direction of the cottage.
When I was called in to see the doctor, I was surprised that my blood pressure wasn’t through the roof. All I could think was that Casper had trotted into the surgery before me and had hopped onto a chair while I was talking to the receptionist. I felt very relieved that they hadn’t spotted him on this one-off occasion when he had been so cheeky.
The next week I was back at the practice for more tests and I was running a little late. When I got there, I was told to go straight through. There were a number of doctors on duty, all with offices attached to each other. As I sat there with the blood pressure cuff around my arm, discussing the results of my previous tests, I almost fainted when I heard someone in another room shout, ‘Get that cat out of here! This is a surgery not a pet shop!’
I knew it was Casper. After all, how many other cats were likely to be doing exactly the same thing he had done? I couldn’t jump up and say that I was off to get my cat, so I got through my appointment as quickly as possible and hurried home, only to find Casper innocently waiting for me on the doorstep.
After I had seen Cassie a few more times at the practice, it became clear that, despite the doctors being less than happy when he followed patients in for their consultations,