HOW FLOP BECAME FLOP AND FOUND HIS HOOMAN!
I love the idea that cats choose their providers rather than the other way around.
Most people would say they adopted their cat. In Flop's case, I am fairly certain he adopted me.
It started on a warm summer day. I noticed a long-haired black cat some way up the road, stretched out on the asphalt, happily writhing about in the dust and sunshine. He looked completely content with life.
A little while later I wandered back to the window to see if he was still there.
He wasn't.
Instead, he was bouncing down the pathway directly towards the house.
His coat was glossy and full of movement, his eyes bright and confident. There was no hesitation at all. Up onto the planter wall, a short leap across the gap onto the windowsill and straight through the open window as though he'd been doing it for years.
I was still wondering what was happening when he gave himself a quick groom, threw himself dramatically onto the carpet with a loud flop, wriggled about for a moment, jumped onto the sofa, groomed himself some more and promptly went to sleep.
Not once did he ask permission.
Not once did he appear remotely concerned about my opinion.
As far as he was concerned, he'd arrived home.
The name Flop came naturally.
Over the following days he simply settled into a routine. Out for adventures, back for dinner, occasional inspections to see what I was doing, then off again. Looking back, I suspect he was checking me out as much as I was checking him out.
Eventually I decided to do the responsible thing and take him to the vet to see if he was chipped.
He was.
I left him there feeling pleased that he had an owner, but admittedly a little disappointed. Cats have a remarkable ability to make themselves important in a very short space of time.
Back home, life carried on.
Then the phone rang.
The owner had been contacted and was on his way to collect the cat.
That should have been the end of the story.
Half an hour later, Flop came through the window.
Again.
He seemed genuinely pleased to see me. Straight onto the floor, belly in the air, a contented wriggle, a quick groom and then back to his favourite spot for a nap.
A little later I spotted a man approaching with a buggy, a couple of children and an absolutely enormous dog.
Sure enough, he was looking for the cat.
I glanced over my shoulder and there, peeping above the windowsill, were a pair of eyes watching the entire conversation. If cats could roll their eyes, Flop probably would have.
Reluctantly, I handed him over.
The owner explained they were moving to the city in a couple of weeks and that the huge dog was a fairly recent addition to the household. In fact, according to him, the dog was about the time the cat had started looking for alternative accommodation.
We chatted for a while and off they all went.
I stood at the window with a cigarette, watching them disappear down the road.
Poor cat, I thought.
I wasn't even halfway through that cigarette when a black blur came hurtling back down the pavement.
Straight through the window.
Straight under the bed.
Moments later came the owner, the children, the buggy and the giant dog.
Apparently they had only made it about a hundred yards before Flop decided he had had enough. The journey had ended with the cat launching a full-scale protest and leaving scratches all over the owner's chest and arms while making his escape.
After another chat, we both accepted what was becoming increasingly obvious.
The cat had already made his choice.
The owner promised to return later and sort out the chip transfer.
I never saw him again.
Nor the children.
Nor the dog.
That was over two years ago.
These days Flop still prefers life to revolve around Flop. In his ideal world he would probably be the only cat in existence. But recently something interesting happened. For the first time since Jerry arrived a few months ago, I watched the two of them actually play together. Proper hide-and-seek, stalking, chasing and ambushing.
It made me smile.
Because it reminded me of the day a confident black cat climbed through an open window, ignored the human completely and made himself at home.
Flop didn't find a house that day.
He found the life he wanted and simply moved into it.