When he was about a year old he we returned from work and couldn't find him anywhere. Eventually someone working in the museum opposite our home found him in the museum gardens.
He had been attacked by greyhounds. Badly mauled, he had bits of insides poking out. We took him to the vet and he was given pretty low odds to survive. But the vet did a fantastic job and he pulled through.
He was a tough cat, and a tease - he used to wind up dogs and other cats all the time. He was pretty hard actually.
We got another cat, Brian, who was nowhere near as tough and also a bit soppy and needy. Stef used to say that Tetley took after her, and me after Brian.
In 1997 Stef and I broke up. I moved to Brighton for a few months before South London for a few years then on to Australia in 2002.
Stef left Walthamstow in the late nineties, and took Brian with her, but Tetley didn't go and became quite a character. A bit like a slightly less adventurous Red Dog from Louis de Bernieres book (and new movie) on the Australian mining town dog.
Life moved on, and Tetley became a memory, like any ex-pet does. But I once got chatting to a stranger a couple of years ago in Hong Kong (or maybe Singapore) who had lived in Walthamstow. They knew Tetley, and knew he hung about the Museum still, which was kind of nice to hear.
But imagine my surprise when Stef sent me the link below to these articles. Tetley died at the end of September and had a New Orleans style community funeral. I wish I had known - I was in Europe then too.
Please take a look at the story. It brought tears to my eyes and happy memories to my heart. (Though I was one of his bully victims. Maybe Stockholm Syndrome at work here). Click the links below the photo.
Funeral for Tetley.
Nice photo and article.
By the way, Tetley was named after the beer. Then they named a beer after him. Funny old world.
