They often say that moving home, along with getting married, is the most stressful thing you can do in life. Well, I can’t say I know much about the whole matrimony thing - I’m a bit of a spinster, you see, never really found the right Tom to settle down with. But as for starting a new life, I think it’s a rather a doddle - even at my age. I moved to South Woodford just over six months ago to spend my retirement with Katie and Mark and things have been - and you‘ll have to excuse the cliché - rather purrfect.
I’d lived for a little while at a cats’ holiday camp called Chestnuts near Epping Forest, but the late nights were starting to get to me and I felt I could do with a bit of a quiet life away from the hustle and bustle of a busy feline hotel. It was nice for a while, welcoming new cats to their rooms for a week or two, helping the little ’uns who were away from home for the first time, but I always felt it was a bit of a stop-gap for me. I’ve also got a bit of a dickie ticker, so craved the simple life to ease the strain. I’m well in my Seventies and their aren’t many cats still working at my age… Anyway, I digress. So, the opportunity came up to share a flat in East London and I went for it.
I spend most of my days lounging around in the living room, watching the wildlife out of the window (I’ve always been a bit of a birdwatcher, truth be told), pottering about on the balcony or giving Katie a hand in the kitchen. I sleep a lot nowadays, too, what with the heart condition, but I don’t like to go on about that. It’s nice to live all on one level, as my bones aren’t what they were. Of an evening I take it easy, sleeping on the sofa, sprawling out on the rug, and I also can’t resist a lap if there’s one going spare.
Still, once Katie and Mark have hit the sack I tend to have a midnight wander around the flat - just to make sure it’s all locked up - and catch 40 winks myself. I’m an earlier riser, so I’m up at about five o’clock in the morning, when I like to get up and do a bit of singing. That’s right, a bit of a singsong. I’ve always found it rather dandy for the spirits - start the day as you mean to go on and all that. Plus, I do like to try to keep up with the noisy old crows who live in the garden downstairs. I had quite a voice in my day - us Persians can hold a tune or two, I tell you.
I’m not entirely convinced Katie and Mark expected me to sing quite so loudly, but I think they’ve got used to it - even if they do look a little bleary eyed of a morning. I suppose I’m a bit on an old eccentric, really. Anyway, life is good and although I’ve got the dodgy ticker - but I don’t like to talk about that - I consider myself a lucky old puss. I must dash, I’ve having my hair brushed at 6 o’clock. Pip pip!
The following, rather well-written letter, came to us from one Precious Brotheridge-Russell - a very proper Persian lady!