Dirty Wilmot

We have met our cat, Wilmot, before on this blog (click here). He was something of a lovable rogue, always willing to explore and rtry new experiences and completely amoral when it came to knowing what was his and what was not.

Today we have a different story about him. It needs a bit of preamble.

My wife and I married in 1971. By present day standards we were absurdly young but as we are still together in 2014, it can’t have been a mistake.

We moved in to a brand new, all electric house on a little estate. Actually, I had moved in before we married and we lived happily there for the next five years. During that time, Wilmot came to join us along with his little kitten relative who, sadly, did not live all that long.

Then in 1976 we moved to our present house. It was only a few miles from the previous one and we hired a van and a couple of friends and moved ourselves.

During the move, we got Wilmot to the new house and shut him in the room we designated as ‘lounge’. There wasn’t much in there and there was no method of escape from it.

Except that when we went in the bleak, bare room there was no sign of Wilmot. He had vanished.

We, unused to fireplaces had forgotten that this was just the sort of place that Wilmot would explore. On hearing us a plaintive little mew was made and down he came, from the chimney.

He was a decidedly dirty Wilmot.

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His filthy state doesn’t show well in a photo, but rest assured, what should have been white was now very much darker, well doused in soot.

Not long after the move we were off on one of our canal boat holidays. Being very new to the area, we used a cattery for Wilmot. He was probably bored there and spent a lot of time grooming himself. He came back spotlessly clean and then settled happily in the new home.

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