A Street Cat Named Bob

Everybody needs a break, everybody deserves that second chance. Bob and I had taken ours …

‘Is he yours?’ she said, stroking him.

‘I guess he must be,’ I said.

Someone said to me once that we were the reincarnation of Dick Whittington and his cat.

On one of the films I had said that Bob had saved my life. When I first heard it I thought it sounded a bit crass, a bit of an exaggeration too. But as I walked along the road and put it all into perspective it began to sink in: it was true, he really had

My Spanish was almost non-existent

‘Si, si. Bob the Beeg Issew Cat,’ said another.

Weird, I thought to myself when I realised what she’d said. How do they know his name is Bob? He doesn’t wear a name tag. And what do they mean by the Big Issue Cat?

Bob didn’t need drugs to get through the night. He just needed his companion: me. And at that moment I decided that was all I needed too. All I needed was Bob. Not just tonight, but for as long as I had the privilege of having him in my life.

. But then I saw his face, that unmistakeable face.

‘Bob.’

He let out a plaintive meow, just like the one in the hallway three years ago, as if to say: ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for ages.’

I scooped him up and held him close.

As Belle’s road loomed into view I was still feeling close to tears. What was I going to do without him? I’d never find a companion like Bob again. It was then that it happened. For the first time in years I experienced an overwhelming need for a fix

‘Well, it actually means we are all very fond of him. We think of him as part of the family.’

It took a lot of willpower to stop myself from bursting into tears