Some cats leave pawprints on your heart, and Robin left a whopping great dent in mine.
I first met Robin in 2021 when his lovely humans, Emily and Luca, booked me to look after him as part of our cat-sitting service. He was a three-legged black-and-white rescue cat with a BIG personality. And despite his missing leg, he never seemed to let it bother him.
Robin had already lived quite a life before I came along. Emily adopted him in 2019 from the Cats Protection in Corby. She was looking for a special indoor cat as she lived in a flat at the time. As soon as she read Robin’s bio, she just knew. It was love at first sight.
Before his rescue, Robin had been living rough at the bottom of a block of flats. Several different families were feeding him (hence a weight issue) and one actually built him a little tent outside for him to live in. Eventually someone contacted Cats Protection because they were worried he was getting too fat!
They estimated he was around 8 years old, and said he’d need a strict weight-management diet. (Robin insisted that wasn’t important!)
He settled in straight away. Luca – who claimed he was a die-hard dog person – was swiftly converted by Robin’s charm. He was chatty (VERY chatty!), cuddly, and full of sass. And he made it very clear that laps were for sitting on.
After a few months in his new home, Luca posted on a local Corby Facebook group to see if anyone recognised him. People did – and it turned out his old name was Marley. Apparently, he had a bit of a reputation for breaking into other people’s houses and helping himself to their cats’ food. A real life cat burglar!
Then a lady messaged to say she was his original owner and she even sent kitten photos of baby ‘Marley’. She told them he lost his leg after falling off a garage roof and breaking his hip. Sadly, after young children joined his family, he’d become unsettled and eventually wandered off. When Cats Protection got in touch to ask if she wanted him back, she said no…
Sad. But this turned out to be the start of his real life.
Robin lived the absolute high life with Emily and Luca. He moved with them to London and then Warrington, where he became best friends with a pigeon named Viktor who lived in his garden. He never did lose the weight, despite carefully measured diet food, regular vet check-ups, and even attempted cat harness walks. He was happy, and very much in charge.
He was a clever boy, especially when it came to food. I put his weighed portions into a timed feeder that would open in two halves, 12 hours apart. Once I put it down for him, popped off to clean his litter tray, and when I came back I caught him using his paw to expertly spin the dial forward a full 12 hours and unlock the second portion. He’d already wolfed down the first half and was happily moving on to seconds! He did it so quickly and confidently it clearly wasn’t the first time. I’d often wondered why the feeder had moved across the floor. Now I knew!
He also had a flare for the dramatic. Once, he became poorly with a feline urinary infection while Emily and Luca were on holiday in Spain, and stuck there under Covid restrictions. I knew he needed to be seen by a vet quickly so I popped him in my car and off we went. It was a five-minute journey and he WAILED the entire way. Absolutely howled. When I told them, they laughed with relief because if I’d said he was quiet, they’d have REALLY worried. Apparently Robin was always a very dramatic traveler, so his protest was actually a sign that he was still feeling like himself!
And here’s the bit that gets me: even with all that love at home, Robin genuinely seemed to love me too. I don’t know why, but we did seem to have a connection. When I looked after him he would demand to sit on my knee, and then we would wander round his garden while he chewed the grass and chatted to Viktor. Emily used to joke that he loved me more than them!
He had impeccable comic timing – he would yowl dramatically right on cue during Phantom of the Opera and never failed to answer the question, “Would you like some breakfast, Robin?” with a look that said, “Do I look like I’ve already had breakfast? Of course I would!”
When he became ill, aged only 12, in 2023, it was a horrible shock. Luca messaged me with the devastating news that Robin had been diagnosed with feline cancer, and time was short. He said “Would you like to come and see him one last time?” So Robin could see his best friend in the world. I was incredibly touched that Emily and Luca thought of me. That visit was one of the hardest I’ve ever done – I had to take my husband with me because I wasn’t sure I’d hold it together. But I was so glad I went. Robin had finally lost weight, bless him and that broke me. I sat with him on my lap and stroked him through my tears, crying for Emily and Luca, knowing the heartbreak they were going through.
He was with them for just under four years, but it felt like a lifetime’s worth of love was poured into every one of those days.
And now he’s gone, but I still think about him often. He wasn’t just a cat I looked after. He was a little legend and I’ll never forget him.
Rest in peace, Robin. You were one in a million.
