Casey Jones is my name.
One evening, a spontaneous dinner gathering, spaghetti, red wine and good friends.
In walks a kitten. Ginger kitten with a liking for Italian food as we found out when he jumped up and grabbed a bite to eat from Trevor’s fork….. We already had a cat, Jezzabell a remarkably cat but another story. The kitten was the star of the evening did all things right and was cheeky as well.
The deal was if he is here in the morning he can stay. He was a smart cat no doubt ….. Also a very inquisitive cat like most cats … a year later he was gone. We looked everywhere. If you walked the Streets calling your cats name you know what I mean by feeling a bit odd….
Casey Jones was gone. Casey Jones was his name because we lived by the railroad and that was his hunting ground. Casey was gone for 14 days We given him up for dead or gone forever. It was a solemn mood in the family even Jezzy was of colour.
A person come along one day and said he noticed a strange noise from a house not far away that was being moved to another place an old Queenslander…
I went to investigate. The back door was locked I lent against it mmmm then I could hear a faint cry from a cat. I lent a bit more and the door gave away. The noise come from the bathroom. I opened the door found Casey was on the floor panting. I lifted him up it was only skin and bone left of him.
Held him close and he started to purr licking my hand and my tears started to flow. He had survived on blue Harpic water from the toilet. I took him home gave him some food and normal water and he ate a bit and drank a bit. He did not leave me alone he was always at my feet or in my lap for many weeks after. He recovered and slowly got back to his normal arrogant self thank god…..
Ah what has this to do with a name well Casey Jones was an extraordinary cat and he looked just like your kitteh.
