Memories of the conversations with my cat – 72

As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.

Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.

For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1

These are the memories of our time together…


This is Chester.  He’s finally got a starring role in one of my stories.

The thing is, I tried to keep it quiet so he wouldn’t get delusions, but it failed.

I made the mistake of leaving the page with the ‘cat’ part on the screen.  The screen saver should have kicked in, but I think a well-placed paw brought it back to life.

So, the next morning, I come down and see him sitting on the desk, waiting.

It can either be good news or bad news.

“I see you’ve finally written a cat into the plot.”

“It was only a matter of time.  I think you made your case a week ago by sitting on the keyboard until I agreed.  Now, you’re in.”

“Yes.  I see.  Who’s idea was it to call the cat Herman?  I mean to say, really, Herman?”

“I thought it was a great name for a cat.”

“What type of cat is it?”

“I don’t know.  A cat’s a cat isn’t it?”

“Why not a Tonkinese, like me?”

“Alright, I’ll change it.”

“You made him jumpy, skittish even.  I’m not like that.”

“It’s not you in the story.”

“So you’ve found another cat, who is it.  It won’t last long when I get to them.”

Maybe it’s easier to write him out of the story.  I don’t think I can take this criticism.


2 thoughts on “Memories of the conversations with my cat – 72

  1. I’m so sorry to hear of your sad loss. ❤️Hugs❤️
    Two cats adopted my husband and I. The most we had in the way of pets were goldfish people kept giving us because we had two wildlife ponds without fish. We wanted frogs and newts and wild birds because we went away a lot and didn’t want to rely on other people to look after our pets. Anyway, first Willow arrived. Well, she wasn’t called Willow. This skinny little thing camped out on our patio. If we went out she would wait for our return. We had no idea who’s cat she was. We hadn’t fed her. One day I saw her eating bread I had put out for the birds. I knew cats didn’t eat bread so my husband brought so cat treats. At first she was so timid, we couldn’t touch her, and she would lash out at us. I would sit on the kitchen floor and slowly over time she would come in and every day come a little closer. In total it took four years for her totally trust us. Then Brutus came. Dump by the owner who no longer wanted the cute little kitten when it becomes a cat. I can’t believe different personalities they both have and how they can tell you things without you realising. I’m just so glad these two walking into our lives.

    Liked by 1 person

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