Not long after moving to Jaffa, Bobbin came to live with Carly and Talulah. She was an adolescent cat from Carly’s good friend Ayala. She’d been placed with a family with a dog who just barked all day long at her. But Talulah had been brought up with elderly cats and knew her place. Firmly at the bottom of the pile. Bobbin was pretty smart but did spend a lot of time hissing particularly at the dog and quite often at Carly. But Carly is an inveterate cat lover and so persevered. Several months later she got a kitten from The Society of Protection of Cruelty to Animals. Moses was quite something else. He completely adored Talulah, and they would often be seen lying side by side on the bed and sofa and chase around the apartment.
Carly’s son and daughter-in-law had bought a lovely sign for her apartment. It said Carly and Talulah in Hebrew and was by her front door. Carly added one that said, “and also Bobbin” and finally another one, “and in addition Moses”. The signs looked very smart and professional; no-one could claim ignorance of her pets’ names when they came around.
But Moses did have a thing about the cat box, and his specialty was bursting out of it. The final time Carly used it with him she rendered it fool-proof with lots of bungee elastics to secure it in all three axes (x, y and z). Over the summer, when Carly was away in London, Isaac looked after all the animals. He confessed one day to Carly he was sure that Moses was pregnant. He claimed Moses’ belly had become very swollen over a matter of a few weeks and his nipples were enlarged. But Carly knew that not only had Moses been spayed but for sure he was male. Essentially, Moses had complained to Isaac that he was very hungry, and he ate far too much and with such gusto, he became fat very quickly. The perceived prominence of his nipples was just part of his rapid girth expansion. This meant Carly had to put Moses on a strict diet. He was NOT happy about this. Much later, well after weight gain and subsequent loss, one day he left. Carly was so sad. He was the best cat she had ever had. She just hoped he had found another family.
A few months went by and her old friend, Simeon, from London, was looking to rehome his three cats. He wanted one adopted, one fostered and one didn’t know. Simeon told her that Wendy was a three-legged cat who was horrid. Well, “no thanks,” muttered Carly. Then there was Willow who Simeon adored and eventually wanted back but Carly isn’t in the business of fostering cats. Too much emotion involved there. But Simeon did offer her Prince Harry. Really, she should change the name. If she called him Prince Moses, she could probably keep the door sign, and she did have a son called Harry. However, she had recently read that cats do know their names, and he was a ginger tom, and so Prince Harry was a good name. Well, good enough to keep. She would just have to shell out for a new door sign. Simeon, like many cat owners, liked to leave food out all the time. This meant Prince Harry was obese and this wasn’t going to work for Carly. He needed to be able to fit under the garage door and out of the grills in her window to access the outside. So, she fed him separately from Bobbin so he wouldn’t steal her food as she was a slow coach, and he was a demon speed eater.
Occasionally, Carly forgot all about him, but he let her know it was time to be allowed out of his eating room. He would meow like mad and stand on his back legs scratching the door repeatedly.
He settled in quickly and made good friends with Talulah. They matched in colour and temperament. Both were high energy and believed they were dogs. Obviously, one was! He became friends with Clive (a partially ginger tom from next door) but not with Bobbin who continued to hiss at him and every other animals. Carly had been given some coloured hair conditioner by her friend Tova. This meant that Carly and Talulah and Prince Harry all had orangey-red hair/fur. This inspired Tamar (a friend and professional photographer) to take pictures of all three of these similarly coloured creatures! But it is one thing to take photos of children. Pets are quite another. Much, much harder. But Tamar is a keen and committed expert photographer. Carly wore a variety of red dresses, and the photographs Tamar took were joyous.
Once he walked quite far with Carly and Talulah when they were on their way to the beach. He had crossed Yefet which is a busy main road. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. So, she had to circle back. And stop the traffic on Yefet. Which was just about possible, except the cat, still really being a cat, decided that now was not the time he wanted to cross. He looked like he was shrugging his shoulder and telling Carly “Whatevs”. Luckily, he eventually did.
Prince Harry loved to go up and down the street telling anyone who would listen that he was not fed at all and was absolutely starving. One day Carly met Tal who showed her how he gave the cat a tin twice a day. Carly explained that he must desist, and she went home to work out how to tell people not to feed him. She’d bought an engraving kit but not really used it. But now she had an idea. She bought three plain tags from the pet shop and on one side engraved her mobile number and on the other as clearly as she could engraved “Do NOT feed me”. She bought three quick release cat collars as he was a rascal and could get stuck up a tree. This way he was less likely to strangle himself.
Prince Harry thought himself rather fetching in his new collar with its personalised tag. He spent time in local coffee shops. Carly would pick him up on the way back for supper time. The owner from one of the cafes told Carly that the dog owners weren’t happy about Prince Harry’s presence. Carly apologised and then told the owner he would need to speak to the cat himself directly, shrugged and walked home with the cat in tow. Prince Harry and the dog would run up the street jumping over each other until they arrived at the door.
Then the messages started. Or random phone calls. Prince Harry would be keen to sit around in air-conditioned shops. Particular favourites were the furniture shop as their beds were very comfy, in clothes shops under the lovely drapey dresses and at the gym where he could ogle at all these mad humans getting themselves in a lather and sweating whilst he lay down and had a rest. Mostly people called because they were worried about him. Mostly Carly was worried in case they might feed him. But it was clear to all those he met, he was loved and ‘owned’ as he had a collar. At night Carly would remove it as the shops were shut, and he could roam around incognito as cats are prone to do.
One particular woman was very concerned about Prince Harry’s safety. She wrote extremely long text messages. Initially, she was quite kind and considerate. He’s so sweet and such a little prince, and he loves being around people — it honestly upsets me personally when people try to chase him away. You don’t need to thank me. What matters to me is the well-being of the kitten — of all of them, but especially this one. It’s clear he doesn’t really know how to manage on the street. People drive fast here — cars, motorcycles, and so on — and I don’t want this whole story to end in tragedy. Then she became more strident. He’s too curious, too trusting of people, and clearly not adapted to street life. So either take responsibility for him, or find him a home where someone will. And finally laid on the guilt about how Carly was not a competent cat owner. I honestly just want the best for these little ones. And he’s such a prince. I picked him up yesterday and hugged him — he’s amazing and starving for affection. I wish I could adopt him too… He has the most perfect personality. He loves people, loves being held…And sadly, in our world, that kind of nature — just looking for someone to be near — can be really dangerous. He’s just a little baby…But the area around here isn’t the safest for him. When he wanders between cars, I get full-on panic attacks and find myself stopping cars, scooters, and motorcycles just to help him cross safely.
As Carly was away, she told the people looking after her animals to keep the cats inside during the day and this seemed to do the trick. Once Carly returned, Prince Harry took to the streets. His favourite haunt was a local pasta place. On two nights in a row, they had to call Carly to collect him. The café staff felt some customers might not like to see a ginger tom marching around the kitchen! But they did feel bad to ask Carly to collect him as they dearly loved him. However, Carly didn’t mind in the least collecting him. She went with Talulah and the two orangey-red animals happily skipped back home.
