A Sad Story about - The Little Cat from Santorini.

I went on holiday and a little cat became part of my memories of that holiday. Most of the memories of this cat are happy because he was such a character full of life and fun. However there are also some very sad memories connected to the little cat of Santorini's story.

This little cat had a way of making you sit and laugh at him and the games he played to entertain himself. He would chase the moving shadows of the palm trees. He would spring up and twist around in the air if an unexpected noise made him jump. He was so playful that he brought out the childish streak we all have hidden away. I would sit and squish paper bags from the bakery into balls the size of a ping-pong ball and roll it across the court yard for him to chase. He had me very well trained after two or three days, sometimes he had his breakfast before we had ours. He was very well mannered and would never eat and run but would sit with us until we went in to the apartment to get ready to go out.

We gave him a name, but were resolved not to get fond of him because we knew we would have to say goodbye when we returned home. He had other ideas about us not becoming attached to him. He had little tricks up the sleeves he did not have. He never pestered us when we were eating out side but would always wait a polite distance away. He had ways of letting you know that even though you had given him a tasty snack a bit of affection would be very nice, so could you pick him up and stroke his ears please. I was a bit wary of holding him at first as I sometimes am allergic to cats fur. He won me over in the end though and I took the risk of picking him up. Mostly he would come to the table outside our room when my husband was sitting there reading; it became part of the holiday to hear him tell me the little cat was visiting us.

One day we had to leave the room early in the morning to catch a bus for a day trip; we would be out all day. We managed to see little cat at our early breakfast time but we knew would not be back until late. Sometimes he would visit us as we sat outside in the evening after we had been out for our meal. That night we returned late and tired so we only sat outside for ten minutes. Little cat did not visit then but we thought he had found someone else to sit with and it was late and we were tired so thought no more about it.

We had breakfast the next day and were suprised not to see him then. Some time later I thought I heard a strange miaowing, I looked around but could not see him. I thought it was one of the other cats who lived near by. Every time I went near the door I could hear this faint crying sound it was odd. I thought I would look for him, but could see no sign of him still. Then as I turned to go in I heard it again and looked over the low wall near our room.

"He's here", I called to my husband " Happily thinking the cat was playing some odd game of hide and seek. I walked towards the room to get the cat something. Then I realised the cries were strange because the cat sounded unhappy and distressed and that he had not jumped over the wall to follow me. Walking back to him, I leaned over the wall to see him better, what I saw made me feel distraught. Little puss looked his usual self but he could not walk because his feet were damaged. I thought his legs and feet looked as if he had walked on a hot barbecue or fire by mistake. I knew I could not lift him without hurting him so I ran to the room to get help. By the time we were back in the courtyard somehow little puss had managed to get himself over the wall and was trying to walk towards us. Even now the thought of how he struggled to get to us with his feet so painful, makes me sad. I just did not know what to do, I did not know if the town had a vet, who the cat belonged to or anything of any use. I ran to get a towel to wrap him in then I saw the young woman who took care of our rooms and ask her to help us. She picked him up and took him to the owners of the rooms.

That was the last time I saw our little Santorini cat who we nicknamed Little Puss. We tried to find out what had happened to him to cause his injuries and how he was. He was such a bold little kitten I thought he might have found fish scraps on a barbecue and burnt himself in an attempt at getting a tasty snack.

Eventually we found out from the owner of the corner shop that someone had driven over him (the night we were out) and that he had run away in fear and stayed missing until he came to us. We kept wondering if he was being looked after or what had happened, but communication is not always easy about such complex things. The awful thing was we could hear a cat crying in a distraught way in the distance somewhere. I kept hoping he was not suffering. The next day, the last day of the holiday we discovered it was not him crying but another cat. Someone else travelling home with us had heard that a vet had said the little cat  could not be saved and had put him out of his misery later on the day he had come to us.

I was glad to be going home. The place did not seem the same without the little cat bounding about, dashing up trees and twisting himself around our ankles when he wanted some attention. We have the photos of him and will never forget him. Some how I think he would have liked his moment of fame that your reading of this has brought him.

a kitten 'sort of adopted us' when we were on holiday and visited at least twice a day. It was not just coming to us for food it would hang about until we picked it up and cuddled it.