We got off on the wrong foot, Pepsi and I. She was startled and I was oblivious … it was not an auspicious start …

*Indeed Clicky. How was I to know my attempt to say ‘hello’ would result in her death?*

*Aww … thank you ❤ *

Pepsi was Mother’s cat and they adored each other. She would lie on Mother’s lap as they watched the telly; the rising hill just meant Pepsi had a better view of …

 

In the spring of 1967 she was a contented cat. That was until the day the earth moved …

 

*Ah yeah… No, Pepsi didn’t see it that way …*

*Quite!*

And it got worse for her as the kicking, ninja belly grew … less and less attention was spent in her direction as more and more was lavished on it.  She withdrew to the top of the wardrobe and kept a careful watch on proceedings with her glowing green eyes …

When it was nearly time for me to arrive, Father brought home my cot. Mindful of what Pepsi was capable of, he made some provision …

Unfortunately, this was seen as a …

… and boy did she rise to it.  The next day dad woke to find the netting ripped to shreds and the cat fast asleep where the baby would lay. He made the decision then, Pepsi would have to go …

*Unfortunately yes, Clicky. He didn’t have time to find a new home for her because I, too, had made a decision … to arrive …*

Pepsi died on the day I was born. Father took her to the vet and the deed was done. I didn’t get the chance to meet her … until later that is …

As a small child, I would play in my parents’ bedroom, happily babbling away, the way small children do. Mother asked me, “Who are you talking to?”

“The cat.” pointing upward at the empty space on top of the wardrobe. I’m fairly certain we managed to straighten out the misunderstanding between us then, Pepsi and me.

*Thank you for listening, Clicky … have a Song …*