Cats in the County

This time I thought I'd tell you about some of the cats in Mellowdene. One reason is that I still find it incredible that, before I was born, there were absolutely no cats living in the village or, to the best of my knowledge, the county. 

In a previous blog post, over four years ago (is it really that long ago?), I featured my brother's description of the disaster that led to the hill cat community of Hawkshade living in Mellowdene until they recovered.

The cats eventually returned to the general area of where Hawkshade was destroyed and with our help a new village was built and named Catsholme. The shallow watercourse connecting us was developed into the canal we now use for trading and transport towards Acorn Valley. However, not all the cats were content to remain in Catsholme. Some had enjoyed the interactions with other critters to the extent that they decided to migrate and settle in Mellowdene.

The Harveys were the first, and the Fishers soon followed. 

Joyes, Bert and Macey Harvey

Albert Fisher

The Keats and Persis families also had their roots in Catsholme but came here. 

Milton and Louise Carol Keats

Wilhelm and Maud Persis with grandson Septimus

Some of the McCavity clan thought they'd like to come but, whilst they wanted to associate with other critters, they were more comfortable with other cats around them. This effectively led to the building of the Mews - streets that are effectively a cat district within Mellowdene. Mungo McCavity enjoys the best of both worlds; some of his family live in the Mews but he captains a canal boat that allows him to maintain regular contact with the branch of the family that remains in Catsholme - including his Uncle Artimus.

Mungo and Mary McCavity with Myrtle Catamaran

Not all the Mellowdene cats have their origins in Catsholme. We have a contingent who have connections with the sea cats. Mungo McCavity's wife is Mary Catamaran, and her family were famous sea cats. Similarly, Cecile's friend Atlanta Marlowe is descended from a long line of nautical felines. She married a cat who was in the business of boat building, leading to their moving here. 

Maybe the news filtered out because of the satisfaction of our hill cat settlers, but soon other cats started to appear in the county. The Golightly and Silk families were amongst the first but they are far from the last. Some cats are attracted to the Mews, but others take homes in the village enjoying close proximity to other critter races. Some live in other parts of the county, reveling in the open spaces.

Jacob Silk

In the relatively few years I've lived, cats now rival the dogs for their number of residents, second only to the rabbits. Maybe that's why I used the term incredible; so many over just a few decades. Their presence has enriched our community and it's difficult for me to conceive of Mellowdene without cats.

There we have it. An overview of our feline population. And yet I suspect some of you may wonder what prompted me to choose this as a subject to discuss.

It's Cecile's friendship with Atlanta... no. Let's not limit this to my darling wife. I enjoy the Marlowes' companionship too. Melvin is a scream. His dry, honest, unfiltered humour is refreshing and our conversations are always a treat. It's our friendship with Atlanta, Melvin and their children. Yes, that. That is what gives us an insight into aspects of the cat community. And that's how we heard of Felix Cheshire and his group; that and the tale he told Melvin a couple of years ago.. 

o 0 O 0 o

We were on our way from Acorn Valley to Mellowdene. By we, I mean my brother Nolan, my wife Kara, our daughter Naomi and our foster children Dion and Auden Catwood. It was a visit to see my cousin Adam and his family, prior to a likely decision to settle there. A small bit of land to be self sufficient but close enough to visit my relatives. Maybe even teach part time in the school. 

The journey had proved uneventful until we were roughly halfway through the break in the mountain range that led to the rest of Sylvania. Three young cats ran from the foothills, panicked expressions on their faces.

"Our home has collapsed!" cried one.

"They're buried alive!" wailed another.

The third grabbed my arm. "Please help!" she said, pulling me back towards the narrow pass from which they'd emerged. 

Of course we followed - but when the three youngsters came to a halt we saw no sign of a house, damaged or otherwise. When we asked where the house was, the first cat pointed to a mound of earth.

"It's not really a house," sniffed the second.

"We live down there," sobbed the third.

Eventually we extracted an explanation from her whilst the others returned to scrabble ineffectively at the ground. We discovered she was called Floella Tuxedo and her companions were Axel and Anton Golightly. They were part of a larger family of cats who lived in an underground chamber with "Papa Floyd".

We set to, trying to remove the earth as best we could, but we were making little progress. We didn't have any tools to help us and it was looking desperate, not knowing the degree of the collapse below.

   

We paused when Dion called, "Mum! Dad!" and we turned to see what he wanted. 

He pointed to another mound a short distance away - a mound that was moving. As we watched, the clay and stones fell away and a head poked out of a hole.

Axel and the others ran to the critter who hauled himself out from the tunnel he'd dug. "Papa!" they cried. It was a badger with an injured arm. He'd done well to create an escape route from the compromised chamber. He acknowledged the three young cats with a nod and then he saw us. He nodded a greeting.

"I am Cyrus Floyd Underwood," he said. "There are others climbing up from below. If you could help..."  

With that he sat down heavily. It was clear he was exhausted, and Nolan drew me to one side, telling me that the badger's arm needed treatment.

"They must come with us," said Kara. "There will be medics at Catsholme."

I agreed, but none of us realised the number of cats that had lived in the subterranean chamber. Including Axel, Floella and Anton there were nine. Three of those were kittens.

They didn't have many possessions meaning there was little delay once they agreed to accompany us on our journey. The oldest of the cats - a young adult called Cressida Tuxedo - thanked us but shook her head when we suggested they relocate to Catsholme.

"I've been told that only cats live there. What about Papa Floyd?"

We weren't in the business of splitting up families so, once we were convinced Cyrus Floyd Underwood would cope with the longer journey, we resumed our journey to Mellowdene.

o 0 O 0 o

Cyrus chatted quietly with us as we travelled. 

"I'm not their actual father," he said redundantly, "and until just over a year ago I lived alone. Happily so. They stumbled across me when I was foraging and they needed help. I shared my home and they sort of became attached to me."

    

"Do you know where they came from?", asked Kara.

"I don't think they know. They say they don't remember anything before they were brought to a beach and told to find a path. I think they went the wrong way and got lost."

"What were your plans for them?"

"I didn't have any. I know they a need proper family and some sort of schooling, and I'm not geared up for that. I can't seem to convince them of that; it's as if they've bonded with me. They are nice kids but... I'm a single badger who likes solitude sometimes."

"Maybe your accident was a blessing in disguise. They'll get a chance to meet other critters in Mellowdene."

o 0 O 0 o

They did, of course. They especially got on with our children. Cyrus's arm was treated and as we waited we discussed placing his wards with other families. 

We wondered if Cressida, Floella, Gilford, tiny Lief and Snowdrop Tuxedo might warm to the Marlowes. We suggested Axel, Anton, Anouska and Arya Golightly might prefer to live with their namesakes or the Silk family. It was a resounding "no".

"The nine of us are a family. We're not splitting up," said Cressida. "We were happy living with Papa Floyd..."

"But is that fair on him? He's fond of you all but he didn't wake up one day and decide to be a father to nine cats. He knows you need school and somewhere safer to live."

"We like the open spaces," Cressida argued. "Mellowdene is nice but we're not used to living in a village. Even if I could convince my family to give up Papa Floyd, where would we live?"

It was a good question. They were good kids and we were growing fond of them. They deserved a happy home. My brother later made a suggestion.

"I know you and Kara were thinking of settling outside the village, finding a place for a small holding. There's good land. Would it be too hard to have Cressida and the others live with us? You could do some of their teaching. Cyrus could have his own cabin and associate with us as and when he wanted."

And that's effectively what happened. The school system supports me so that I can teach off site. Nevertheless I still insist on periodically bringing the children into the village to brush up on certain academic subjects. It also doesn't do them any harm expanding their social contacts. 

o 0 O 0 o

They are settled now but I had been unaware of their history. Felix Cheshire's tale of the nine cats interested me, and I noted similarities with the arrival of the Umberhounds and the Murr-Grand elves. Were these young cats brought to our shores by the Sylvanian Order?

It's not important, but it does illustrate to me how Mellowdene has attracted cats from a wide variety of places, including some I cannot begin to undestand.

o 0 O 0 o