My New Shadow

I’ve always wanted to buy a black kitten and call him Poe. I first heard the story, The Black Cat when I was about ten years old. We listed to it in class, on a cassette player. Ever since then I’ve had this daft idea that if I ever get a black cat, I’d call it Poe.

We came very close to buying a kitten yesterday afternoon (at an extortionate price), but I couldn’t help feeling a little sad because although it was a very bonny little kitten, it was black and white, not just black – so the name wouldn’t really work.

So we came home without it. I went outside to read in the sun. Paula went upstairs on the computer. Five minutes later she was downstairs, saying she’d found a black cat for sale on the internet, and only half a mile away. Next thing I know, this tiny ball of charcoal fluff is padding about our front room, just waiting for a name.

So this was it! My moment. I’ve waited 29 years for this opportunity. I picked her up and in a clear, commanding voice to all in our house I announced my perfect choice of name.

‘Don’t be so stupid,’ came the reply. ‘The kids can name her.’

So she’s called Jasmine instead.