‘Didn’t have you down as a pet guy,’ the man says, with a laugh.
‘Oh boy. My professional reputation gone in one fell swoop,’ Jonathan retorts, still a little flushed.
Thankfully the man laughs.
‘Cute pets,’ he replies. ‘But maybe we can get back to the figures?’
‘Of course, sorry, just give me a second.’ With Pickles in one hand, andGeorge in the other, Jonathan stands up and heads for the door. ‘You too Alfie,’ he adds, sternly. I follow, with my tail between my legs, and he shuts us all out. ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ he whispers, and I know that we’re in for a good telling off.
***
We find Claire in the kitchen making lists. She seems to have given up with homeschooling as Summer is now watching a film and Toby’s playing with Lego.
‘Hi guys,’ she calls as we walk in. Thankfully she doesn’t yet know we’re all in trouble. One of the many things I love about Claire is that she always talks to us as if we’re humans, which means we generally get to know what’s going on. ‘I’m sorting the shopping. I’ve got ours to do, Polly and Matt’s and a couple of other people in the street, and then I’ve got the phone calls…’
A lot of people we know are on their own, and with lockdown they’re even more isolated, so Claire has drawn up a rota of people to call on the telephone to make sure they get some human interaction. A brilliant idea – probably one of mine actually. I’ve taught Claire practically everything she knows.
‘Meow,’ I say, settling myself on her lap and purring my approval.
‘You cats are so lucky being able to go out, but don’t let strangers pet you. I know Jonathan said you probably couldn’t get the virus but I’m not letting you take any chances.’
‘Meow.’ I don’t really understand what she means but I’m not going too far from home at the moment, so strangers petting me shouldn’t be a huge problem. What is a huge problem is the fact that last week they had been unable to get us our favourite cat food, due to people doing something called ‘panic buying.’ While I appreciate that humans are looking out for their cats it seems selfish, because it isn’t just cat food they’re hoarding. Among other things, toilet paper is apparently like gold dust. It shows no consideration for others in my opinion, and especially for people who can’t afford to buy in bulk. If I owned a supermarket there would be trouble, let me tell you…
‘Don’t worry, I’ll get you plenty of treats. And wine for me. And chocolate for Jonathan and the kids. We need cheering up at the moment,’ Claire says.
I nuzzled her. She’s doing an amazing job of keeping everyone together. The children who are going stir crazy, only being allowed out once a day; Jonathan who isn’t pleased about working from home with us all under his feet (quite literally earlier); and even us, well we’re all unsettled, especially Pickles. I decide I will be very helpful to Claire from now on and do all I can to support her. That’s the kind of cat I am. It’s a shame I can’t operate a phone though, so I can do little more than offer moral support and do my best to keep Pickles and George out of trouble. That last part was easier said than done. It’s a full time job.
In that spirit, George and I go too when Claire and the kids take Pickles for his walk. Jonathan was still shut in his office, muttering about getting a lock fitted. It’s warm as we set out on Edgar Road, and I can’t help but think how quiet it is compared to normal. People wave at us, either from windows or front doors. We made sure to cross the street when we saw anyone else on the pavement to keep our distance. I greet a couple of my cat friends from afar, but of course I’ll see them later – cats aren’t limited by restrictions yet, after all. I realise then how lucky we are to have so much freedom, and I resolve not to complain about how the humans are encroaching on my space at home so much.
At Polly’s house, we pause and Claire phones Polly, so they can all come to the window and wave at us. Goodness how we miss them, but they look OK, which is the main thing. Pickles is so excited to see Polly, Matt and the children, Henry and Martha, he waggles his bum and barks as loud as he can. Poor Pickles, it must be so hard for him not to be able to see them properly, and as he’s merely a dog, he doesn’t understand the way us cats do. I decide to give him extra attention from now on, and I would tell George to do the same.
It’s funny how a smile and a wave, which isn’t much, feels like such a lot these days. To some people in lockdown it’s EVERYTHING. Sometimes it takes something bad to appreciate the simpler things in life, and this was definitely a lesson to be learnt in this pandemic. Kindness – something I’ve always tried to instill in my cats and humans alike – friendliness, and just love in general. That’s what’s important in this world, and I hope that, when this is all over, people will remember that. I have a feeling not all of them will though; humans can be a bit selfish. But I’m an optimistic cat so I live in hope. My paws will be firmly crossed for change, in any case.
***
That night, after our ticking off from Jonathan (who wasn’t really angry, because his client found it funny), we all snuggle down in the living room. Summer sits with her dad in his armchair, and Toby, Claire, me, George and Pickles all share the sofa. The humans put on a film about a bear who wore a coat and talked, which doesn’t feel very realistic to me, but we are all together and that’s what matters.
‘I will go back to school one day,’ Summer declares as if it were her choice.
‘Yes, you will, sweetie,’ Jonathan agrees.
‘I miss my lessons and my friends,’ Toby says, sadly.
‘I miss my friends but not my lessons,’ Summer adds.
‘I miss my office,’ Jonathan says, looking pointedly at me. I swish my tail. I didn’t start it, did I?
‘But we are so lucky,’ Claire says. ‘We are healthy, our friends and family are all OK. Even Polly and Matt, Henry and Martha seem fine, so they’ll be allowed out of self-isolation soon. We have food and lovely house, and most importantly we have each other.’
‘Claire, you’re so sentimental,’ Jonathan teases. ‘But you are also so right.’
‘It makes you realise, kids, that money and toys aren’t the most important thing after all,’ Claire goes on. ‘People are.’
‘Meow!’ I rinterject indignantly.
‘And cats of course!’ Claire chuckles. Pickles lets out a loud snore.
‘And dogs as well,’ Toby finishes.
‘Our family and our friends, our pets who are our family, that’s what matters. We are so lucky to have each other. We have to remember that. We are one lucky household, aren’t we, Alfie?’ Claire says, stroking me.
‘Meow,’ I agree. We really are, and there aren’t enough pilchards in the world to persuade me otherwise.