The other main reason for penning The Tales From Cat Town. Was my son’s experience with a cat he shared a house with called Jack. He was a Bengal but not a pedigree but he could have easily passed as one. A very handsome Cat. My son is a Cat lover he has grown up with always being a least one Cat in the house.
So when he left to start his University life in a large shared house in Liverpool. He and his housemates soon acquired a Cat called Jack. hansom but friendly. But as I have said in my Bio on the website. Cats and back street Liverpool go hand in hand. So as he got braver venturing out into back ally ways of Liverpool. They are one big adventure playground for Cats. Jack became an important member of this University household. He would be out on his adventures every day. But of course in true Cat style, he would always be back for his food and drink. To the delight of the whole household who would all make a huge fuss. He was very happy and loved Cat.
My son whose bedroom was on the ground floor would always get the first greeting from Jack when he came back from his adventures. Jumping on his bed purring him to sleep all was good.
After a while, the household had noticed that Jack had stopped eating his food. But there was no change in appearance. His coat was still shiny his stripes had not dulled. He looked better than ever he was on top form.
The household discussed this concluding that he was being fed elsewhere. This was worrying as the outcome of this may lead to Jack abandoning the household altogether. With the popularity of Jack in the household, this must not be allowed to happen. It was suggested that the quality of his food must be improved.
So more expensive food was purchased no change in Jacks behaviour. All they could do was try to watch his movements closely as much as they could when Jack left the house. As you can imagine with a Cat that is not an easy option. Jack would never leave the house from the front he would always leave the house from the back. So there was a lot of straining of necks out of the back windows every time Jack left the house. Trying to see if there was any particular house Jack would visit for longer than usual. Of course, this started to be noticed by the neighbors. But as far as the household could see Jack just carried on till he was out of sight along the ally walls so the mystery was still ongoing.
But what was the panic he was coming home he looked healthy he seemed to love his home what was the problem? As a year passed Jack was getting bigger stronger plus as skint students the cost of food no longer applies. But my son and household still monitored his behavior. Then one sunny morning a fluttering was spotted on the back wall. It was an injured Pidgeon in distress pinned to the back wall. But by what? … Then Jack scrambled on top of the wall getting a better hold of the traumatised Bird. That better hold of the Bird in his mouth was enough to kill.
Jack carried the lifeless Bird into the backyard to the amazement of the household. But what happened next was amazing. In the sun of the yard, Jack ate the Pidgeon leaving only a head feathers feet, and wings. All the rest was now in Jack’s fat belly. As he lay on his side in the sun. Each of the households making a fuss of him taking turns to rub his fat belly stuffed with the once alive Pidgeon. Jack purred with delight.
Jack now brought Pidgeon back daily. Every time eating every think. He was now living exclusively on Feral Pidgeon.
Feral Pigeons are known as vermin spreading disease not what you would call healthy eating. But Jack living on a diet of Feral Pidgeon was getting more and more a striking Cat every day… He was a god of Cats the talk of my son’s circle of friends.
Then the dreaded day came with a knock at the door. Jack had not been home. They were asked by a neighbor from up the street if that was your Cat that had been run over. He took them to the spot. He had kindly placed a batted body in a pillowcase. Sadly it was the body of Jack. The sadness was overwhelming. The God of Cats was dead. My son was deversataded.
My son told me how many Pidgeon’s Jack had consumed. Although no one had seen Jack get run over. I could hazard a guess how a great hunter met his end.
I would often watch Cats hunting Pidgeons. If one Cat is as prolific at hunting as Jack. It would have forced the Pidgeons to feed in the middle of the road. The speeding cars would have been their protection. The car speeds up to them they fly away. But the Cat has now to be very aware of the speeding cars. As it is engrossed in his prey Jack was probably hiding under a parked car waiting to pounce.
The Birds flew away Jack was hit. His hunting instincts to land his pray had clouded his judgment at the cost of his life.
So you don’t have to watch expensive Wild Life T.V programs to see the life and death struggles of survival they unfold on our streets.
So that’s why Jack the Cat will always be one of my biggest inspirations in writing
The Tales From Cat Town (children’s book series.
Norm Wilson