Bella the cat

Recently my landlady passed away. Bless her. She was 96 and had a full and mostly happy life. Although she told me that her early life was very traumatic. Her entire family was killed by Hitler, and she was the only one that managed to come to Britain as a maid and so saved her life.
She was the character of the street and although she was old and almost blind, she still managed to do her balance yoga every morning, as well as go for a walk around the block in Little Venice where she lived for many years and which she loved. She always told interesting stories about her equally interesting life. She used to be the main bread winner for the family and earned a living as a medical corsetiere, she rode horses (she used to own a horse in Hyde Park and get up at 5 am every morning to ride it), she performed Spanish dance in the Royal Albert Hall and did ice skating, skiing and drove a car until well into her 80s.
She left behind a daughter, two grandchildren, a massive house and her cat Bella. She loved this cat, which she got when it was already 2 years old and had an abusive first home. Perhaps as a result of this, Bella never became the cuddly affectionate type of cat that I have always been used to having.
This is what my landlady had on her door
She is a neurotic, ungrateful little b*%@h, and those are the very exact words that my landlady used refer to her by. She will bite you when you stroke her, while purring at the same time and she only manages to cuddle for about 1 minute maximum and comes to see me only when she wants food.
Nevertheless, Bella and my landlady used to spend many an evening or afternoon listening to the TV or radio together, enjoying each other’s company. I had always promised my landlady that I would look after Bella if anything should happen to her, or if she ever decided to move away, never really thinking this through and never thinking it would actually happen!
However, when it did happen, it was suggested that the cat would be given to a rescue centre, as my landlady’s relatives live in the United States and own parrots, so it is impossible for them to take the cat.
I felt obliged to honour my promise (why did I ever promise this?), as I have always had a weakness for animals, more so then for humans sometimes, because they are innocent and cannot defend themselves. The most upsetting thing for me is to see animals being mistreated.
So, due to Bella’s general mood swings, stemming probably from her troubled kitten-hood, I felt it would be cruel to uproot her yet again, not only to another house, but also to another owner. She is already used to me being around the house, so I have adopted her for now. I am not sure if I will be able to take her with me when I will have to eventually move out of here. Is it more cruel to take her with me to a small flat with no garden or should I just give her to a home where hopefully someone who can dedicate more time and space to her will take her in? However why would anyone, given the chance to choose between a neurotic middle aged cat or a cute emotional baggage-free cute little kitty ever pick Bella?
For now Bella is probably the cat with the most living space for herself that any cat could possibly have. She is the sole occupant of two floors of a massive house in the up market area of Little Venice. She lounges alone in ‘her’ living room or her conservatory, occasionally visiting her garden or her balcony.
Bella in her living room – just look at that grumpy face
She refuses to come and see me unless coerced, or unless it is feeding time, then she stands scratching at my door. She obviously finds my smaller dwelling space unworthy of her presence and whenever I take her to my flat she stands by the door howling and purring at the same time, until she is let out. 
Bella when I take her to my flat – can’t wait to get out
Bella still spends her time oblivious to her fate and to the fate of her previous companion who will now not return. She still looks confused and awaits my landlady, but probably the penny is slowly dropping.
I have been spoiling her slightly, giving her more food (she is now getting chubby), I bought her organic cat food (to which my boyfriend told me I’m crazy for spending so much money) and I have been giving her nice chunks of real meat from dinner (something she rarely tasted before!).
Bella’s only remaining joy in life
So I say Bella, enjoy your life of luxury, albeit a lonely one, while you can, because neither of us know what is in store for you in the future. 
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About Maia

My name is Maia, I live in London, UK, and I originally come from the Czech Republic. Maia's World is my blog where I write about life in general, personal development, and about ideas, beliefs and discoveries on how to live a fuller life.
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2 Responses to Bella the cat

  1. Eva says:

    Marenko to je nejhezci co jsem od tebe cetla akorat ten odstavec vo jejich pribuznych – mas tam as my landlady relatives live in states. States myslim je velky s a taky mi vadilo ze tam mas za sebou trikrat as they live ,as I have always ,as they are innocent myslim za sebou dokonce v jedne vete. To jsme se ucili ve slohu ze se namaji slova opakovat – to rusi,Ale jinak je to moc hezky,mozna ze tak sezenes nekoho kdo se o ni postara. E

  2. Maia says:

    Thank you Eva, I am glad you like it! I have also changed it now as per your comments 🙂

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