TALES OF MY FATHER
My Father ……. Jack-of-all-Trades, Master-of-None ……. an enigma
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TALE SEVEN:
MY FATHER (AND MY MOTHER!) & THE CAT
PART SEVEN:
ANN, MY FATHER &
THE LAST OF POOR FIGGY
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Figgy was old ……. very old! How old? No one knew! Ann could not recall when she first brought him into her home. When I knew him, he was in terrible condition. His fur was lost in various parts of his body and the colour had evidently faded to a dull, very dull, grey. His ears were chewed, and were now tattered flags that remained from the numerous wounds received during past battles. He also lacked front teeth, but worst of all, he could hardly walk. Walking from Ann’s bed into the kitchen to either/or eat and relieve himself proved often too much for him and his hind legs often gave way and the poor creature had to drag himself forward. Poor Figgy was pitiful to see.
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Ann knew very well that Poor Figgy was suffering and was miserable most of the time. In fact the only one to show him any real and genuine concern and affection was my mother! She didn’t actually like him, but she did not like to see the poor animal in such a condition and in obvious pain and discomfort.
Ann spoke often of taking Figgy to the Vet to have the poor creature put to sleep, but said that she could not bring herself to do it, since it would cause her too much pain and that she would miss him so. Both my mother and I were not fooled by what she said, as we knew that Poor Figgy had become a nuisance and knew that if she were to take him to the Vet, she would be asked why she had allowed the poor cat’s condition to deteriorate to such a terrible state. My mother also said that she could even be charged with Cruelty to Animals since the RSPCA (Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) is very powerful in the U.K.
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Ann soon realised that my father was easy an easy person to manipulate. In fact, my father was a pushover! Soothing words and a cup-of-tea were enough to get him to doing something for you. Others could easily convince him to do something distasteful and this would almost certainly lead him into thinking that he was then held in high esteem for doing it. My father was always willing to perform unpleasant acts of kindness for everyone and anyone ……. as long as it was not for my mother or me ……. which did not please either of us!
My father used to go downstairs to Ann’s flat each morning for Toast and Coffee and a Chat while I was left to get ready for school. This annoyed my morning, as she had left for work already and believed that he ought to remain with me to ensure that I got ready for school, ate my breakfast and was presentable to go out.
During these morning tete-a-tetes, while plying my father with morning coffee and toast and a sympathetic ear, she evidently began to continually mention Poor Figgy’s condition, and gently adding into the conversation, how she would like, although she regretted to begin to think about having the poor creature put to sleep for his own sake! I am certain that she told him that she could not bear the thought of saying Good-bye to him, as she no doubt fought back the tears! I am sure that it did not take long before my father offered to take Poor Figgy to the Vet and ask them to perform the ugly deed! I am also sure that she had plotted carefully and that my father honestly thought that his offer was his idea!
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The ugly deed
Next:
https://stories-of-london.org/tales-of-my-father-page-seven-my-father-and-my-mother-and-the-cat-4/
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