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  • Id persevered for a few more hours but by early evening, when the office workers had gone home and the streets were beginning to fill with drinkers and kids looking for trouble, I decided to call it quits. I felt deflated; Id barely sold ten magazines and collected only a fraction of what Id normally expect to make. Id spent long enough living off tins of reduced price beans and even cheaper loaves of bread to know that I wouldnt starve. I had enough money to top up the gas and electric meters and buy a meal or two for Bob as well. But it meant Id probably need to head out to work again over the weekend, something I really hadnt wanted to do, mainly because there was more rain forecast and Id been feeling under the weather myself.

    As I sat on the bus home, I could feel the first signs of flu seeping into my bones. I was aching and having hot flushes. Great, thats all I need, I thought, easing myself deep into my bus seat and settling down to a nap. By now the sky had turned an inky black and the streetlights were on full blaze. There was something about London at night that fascinated Bob. As I drifted in and out of sleep, he sat there staring out of the dow, lost in his own world. The traffic back to Tottenham was just as bad as it had been in the morning and the bus could only crawl along at a snails pace. Somewhere past Negton Green, I must have dropped off to sleep completely. I was woken by the sensation of something lightly tapping me on the leg and the feeling of whiskers brushing against my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Bob with his face close to mine, patting me on the knee with his paw.

    What is it?, I said, slightly grumpily. He just tilted his head as if pointing towards the front of the bus. He then started making a move off the seat towards the aisle, throg me slightly concerned glances as he did so. Where are you off to?, I was about to ask, but then I looked out on to the street and realised where we were. Oh, sh*t, I said, jumping up out of my seat immediately. I grabbed my rucksack and hit the stop button just in the nick of time. Thirty seconds later and it would have been too late. If it hadnt been for my little nightwatchman, wed have flown past our bus stop. On the way home I popped into the convenience store on the corner of our road and bought myself some cheap flu remedy tablets. I also got Bob some nibbles and a pouch of his favourite chicken dinner it was the least I could do, after all. It had been a miserable day and it would have been easy to feel sorry for myself. But, back in the warmth of my little, onebedroomed flat, watching Bob wolfing down his food, I realised that, actually, I had no real cause to complain. If Id stayed asleep on the bus much longer I could easily have ended up miles away. Looking out the dow, I could see that the weather was, if anything, getting worse. If Id been out in this rain I could easily have developed something a lot worse than mild flu. Id had a fortunate escape.

    I knew I was lucky in a more profound way, as well. Theres an old saying that a wise man is someone who doesnt grieve for the things which he doesnt have but is grateful for the good things that he does have. After dinner, I sat on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket sipping a hot toddy of honey, lemon and hot water topped up with a tiny shot of whisky from an old miniature I had lying around. I looked at Bob snoozing contentedly in his favourite spot near the radiator, the troubles of earlier in the day long forgotten. In that moment he couldnt have been happier. I told myself that I should view the world the same way. At this moment in my life, there were so many good things for which I had to be grateful.

    It was now a little over two years since I had found Bob, lying injured on the ground floor of this same block of flats. When Id spotted him in the dingy light of the hallway, hed looked like hed been attacked by another animal. He had wounds on the back of his legs and on his body. At first Id imagined he belonged to someone else, but after seeing him in the same place for a few days Id taken him up to my flat and nursed him back to health. Id had to fork out almost every penny I had to buy him medication, but it had been worth it. Id really enjoyed his company and wed formed an instant bond. Id assumed that it would be a shortlived relationship. He appeared to be a stray so I just naturally assumed that hed return to the streets. But hed refused to leave my side. Each day Id put him outside and try to send him on his way and each day hed follow me down the road or pop up in the hallway in the evening, inviting himself in for the night. They say that cats choose you, not the other way around. I realised hed chosen me when he followed me to the bus stop a mile or so away on Tottenham High Road one day. We were far from home so when Id shooed him away and watched him disappear into the busy crowds, Id imagined that was the last Id see of him. But as the bus was pulling away he appeared out of nowhere, leaping on board in a blur of ginger, plonking himself down on the seat next to me. And that had been that. Ever since then wed been inseparable, a pair of lost souls eking out an existence on the streets of London. I suspected that we were actually kindred spirits, each of us helping the other to heal the wounds of our troubled pasts. I had given Bob companionship, food and somewhere warm to lay his head at night and in return hed given me a new hope and purpose in life. Hed blessed my life with loyalty, love and humour as well as a sense of responsibility Id never felt before. Hed also given me some goals and helped me see the world more clearly than I had done for a long, long time. For more than a decade Id been a drug addict, sleeping rough in doorways and homeless shelters or in basic accommodation around London. For large chunks of those lost years I was oblivious to the world, out of it on heroin, anaesthetised from the loneliness and pain of my everyday life.


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