While I was in the UK taking care of Mum, Jamie stayed behind in Thailand looking after SY Esper. Being separated like this was something we were used to because each time one of us visits family and friends in the UK, the other stays on board to take care of Millie, our cat.
Millie has had every inoculation available to a cat, is neutered, has never had fleas or worms and seldom mixes with other cats. But she was born in Turkey and doesn’t have an acceptable pet passport, so we cannot take her with us to the UK without placing her in quarantine. And that, for us, is not an option.
I had wanted a ship’s cat from the moment we bought the boat, and even though he is just as much an animal-lover as me, Jamie was dead set against the idea. He reasoned that any animal would need supervision, and therefore limit our freedom to travel away from the boat. We would have to store bags of cat food, and be scraping cat poo off the floor all day long. I promised I would make space for the cat food in my lockers and be in charge of any poo mishaps. But it was his final warning that hit home.
“The cat might fall overboard and drown, and then we would be inconsolable.”
We knew of several tragedies that had befallen beloved pets at sea, and I knew he was right. So I gave up the dream, and for the first time began life in a pet-free zone.
