This is a true story dedicated to all our nine granchildren, told through the eyes of our CAT
Coco Chanel
(remember you can click on the photos to enlarge them)
Chapter 1
My life begins
on
Body and Soul
Me, Coco Chanel - three years old
As you see from the above photograph, I am a cat (Felix Catus) and they call me Coco - to be exact - Coco Chanel - it's something to do with a famous French clothes designer with that name, who was made famous - way back then - for her black and white outfits......get it?
Actually most of me is white but with large unruly black patches in various places on my body including my long tail. I have yellow/green eyes with vertically slit irises. I am often told that I am beautiful, especially by my adopted Dad, who I now call "Bigdad" - and my new Mother - Mum. She rescued me from a restaurant car park where I had been struggling to stay alive. She found me with my head stuck down a half empty tin of ravioli in tomato sauce. My fur was matted, I was covered in fleas and my tummy was rather swollen for reasons that I didn't understand. I had lost my real Mum and I was missing the warmth of her milk.
Did I have brothers and sisters? I will never know, but up until that moment, I had managed to survive by relying on scraps of food from the Tapas Bar, given to me by a sweet, kind and beautiful Spanish waitress called Monique who worked there.. Bigdad said she might have been a dancer; Now how did he know that? She was very happy to have found me a good home...a British built, narrow boat (widebeam) called "Body and Soul".
At first, Mum thought that my ears were really meant to be this peculiar orange colour but luckily the ravioli in tomato sauce washed off in a warm bath. I was given some delicious raw turkey and for the first time in my life I felt safe, well fed and warm. I fell fast asleep on what I now claim to be "my sofa."
Apparently I was born in the spring of the year 2014, on a farm in a place called Lagruere - quite near to the rather larger town of Le Mas D'Agenais on the Canal De Garonne. I am told that there are a lot of wild cats roaming about all over France. I say "wild" but the proper term for my sort of cat is "feral" which basically means "living rough on scraps of food, mice, (which I am very good at catching!) rats, voles and rabbits whilst not being attached to any human owner or family."
I may have been abandoned or thrown out of a car by some owner who didn't want me. That's a bit sad really, isn't it?
On that first day, I woke up on my warm sofa, not knowing where I was, but being stroked and cuddled by Bigdad. That was quite a new sensation - but nice. Then there was the first of several shocks. This took the form of a small, rather porky looking dog called "Teddy" - apparently a Norwich Terrier - as I found out later - He came poking his nose into me as I lay there on the sofa and sniffing me all over. He seemed as surprised as I was, but didn't cause me much alarm.
Despite my playful attentions to his nose, and for some time thereafter, he seemed determined to ignore me - as if I really wasn't there at all. He was a very old dog and much loved. This love, shown towards Teddy, gave me a comfortable feeling. Could I perhaps be loved like he was?
Sadly, I am to learn that Teddy's lifelong friend Spud (a Jack Russell) whom I never met, had recently died at an old age. What a shame. He was black and white too, like me. Teddy and I started our relationship with trepidation on both sides. I don't think he ever treated me as a replacement for his old friend Spud although, as you can see from the photo below, we did become good companions despite the difference in our ages. Teddy was nearly 15 years old and I was only a kitten of about 10 weeks.
Alas, he too was to die after another year and I am to be left all alone. An only child. An orphan. How sad is that? But I would not have known that then, would I?
My new home, as I soon discover, is completely surrounded by water which seems at first a bit perilous, but on the other hand, I quickly see the advantages. I am now well defended from nasty intruders. In effect, I am on a floating island with a roof-top observation point and steel doors to shut out those that are not welcome. No more weeks of fear from marauding dogs, foxes, badgers, hunters and owls. But I have learnt many survival skills which have seen me through this trauma. Climbing trees has become a speciality of mine and has saved me from many a bad situation when chased by dogs.... But the big question is - am I any good at swimming? I have a feeling that this question will soon be put to the test!
It may have all been strange at first but I soon got to like my new home and my new parents and friends. There is food, warmth, security and love. It is very clean and I intend to keep it that way. I have a special tray containing a pleasant smelling earth which I learn quickly to use as my loo - my new parents seem impressed and very pleased with me. I feel safe here; so why would I want to leave?
But after a few days I am allowed to go free and to explore my new surroundings. I pluck up the courage to jump off the boat on to the pontoon - then further and further I go, each time rushing back to the safety that I have now found on "Body and Soul". I define my territory; I call it my own, not knowing that the life that I am now to lead, does not allow any ownership of territory. Such claims that I may have now are always going to be temporary. Indeed I have many life changes with which I must come to terms. But for the moment, I have found my nirvana and also a lovely old tree trunk to climb in emergencies, just nearby.
I like all the human attention I am getting and I soon start demanding more of it. I play with anything that moves. That makes everyone laugh and I seem to be attracting lots of children as visitors. Life is getting better by the minute and I am growing in self-confidence too. I learn the sounds and the smells around me - Mum and Bigdad, his piano playing (he does a lot of this!), the vacuum cleaner, the electric fans, the computer, the Jotul wood burner, Teddy, the pumps, the radio, and Mum's cooking (her passion!) Then there is the hum of the "Inverter" with its twinkling lights; it seems to be so important to Bigdad who worries quite a lot about the state of his batteries.
I like to sit quietly for long periods high up on the chest of drawers in the living room, safely looking out of the window at everything going on outside. I can stare at dogs - the old enemy - at close range and in absolute safety, as they walk past. They call this my "television window".
I have already climbed all over Body and Soul - inside and out - and I have become familiar with the roof and the narrow tread-way all around the outside edge of it. I am glad to be fairly sure footed; one slip and I would be into the water, but fortunately both the roof and the edgeways have a non-slip surface which helps prevent such disasters from happening. I even have a mini - sized life jacket specially made for me, but I refuse to wear it. It remains in the drawer under the stairs - perhaps I'll need it sometime in the future - particularly if we ever go to sea - it could be rough then, could'nt it?
Once, I boldly try visiting the campsite and the car park in which I was first found but quickly rush back to the security of my new home. I am getting braver as time goes on but I have yet to experience the roar of our engine as Body and Soul prepares to leave her pontoon moorings at Lagruere. I hear exciting talk of a journey that none of us will ever forget. But first we need to get to our winter's mooring at a place called Montauban.
The engine noise seems to come from under the floor. It is very frightening indeed. I have already lost many of my lives (Cats have nine of them apparently) so I am going to hang on to those that are left!
The throbbing engine seems to speed up and the land appears to be moving away from me. Suddenly I panic. The engine gets louder and louder. I hadn't bargained for this - I am losing my special tree trunk, the land and the solid buildings. Are they moving away from me...or am I moving away from them? I must jump the ever widening gap between me and safety..... I take a flying leap, as hard as I can, in an effort to reach the pontoon. I fail miserably and land about three feet short of its steel structure; with all paws flailing and with a ghastly screaming sound; I strike out for the shore.
Now all the customers who are enjoying their "midi" tapas on the Terrace Bar on hearing and seeing my plight, rush down to help. ("Midi" means "lunchtime" in France) But Bigdad has already got the picture and is just behind me up to his neck in muddy water, having just had time to turn off the engine and leave his watch and wallet behind. He grabs me firmly and passes me bodily to the many helping hands outstretched before him. Mum is already finding dry towels and I am promptly wrapped in them and taken back on board... phew! ...Another lesson learned, but at least I know that I can swim if I have to! That's good too, isn't it? It may well be handy in the future; who knows?... we'll see!
I soon recover my courage and composure and I know that, in future, when the engine starts I must go and lie down on the big double bed until Bigdad is sure that there are no locks imminent - Locks are quite dangerous things which I don't understand yet and I just might be tempted to leap off at the wrong moment. This itinerant lifestyle is both exciting, and interesting. It will be a lovely adventure too.
When we are on the move, I can watch people walking their dogs along the bank side from my television window. They appear to be walking at the same pace as us. Bigdad often has quite long converstions with them - a kind of "ship to shore" talk - whilst I make rude signs to their dogs from the window.
I am now certain that the most important thing in my life is security and love. We may stop for just one night and sometimes for weeks if we like the spot; but during the 5 months of winter, when all the locks are shut, we find a beautiful place with the best facilities - like - a good supply of electricity, water, firewood and convenient shops for Mum to shop in.
So Montauban, here we come!
I will always make "Body and Soul" my home. Wherever she is, that is where I will be.
But as Bigdad always says, and as we soon find out - life ain't all going to be plain sailing is it?
Click on any photo to get a decent size!