A couple of weeks ago, you may remember I was executing warrants early one morning, with policemen. One of the houses we entered, was a large multi-occupancy address with all sorts of undesirable types living in it. It was the sort of place you wipe your feet on the way out.

As the police and I entered the *house*, in the corner was a tiny little golden coloured tabby cat. She must have been about 8 months old and was skin and bones, covered in fleas with a very rough coat. She couldn't have weighed more than 3lbs.

Of course, 6 burly policemen in riot gear would never notice a scraggy cat. We arrested the offenders, and on my way out, I went to pick up the tabby cat to take her with us, but she had gone. I wondered about her, but in the chaos I figured she had hidden.

This morning, I went back to the same police station that I had been working from five weeks ago. Whilst I was waiting in the rest room for my police colleagues so I could brief them, in wanders miss tabby cat - only this time her coat is clean and shiny, and she looks very smug and well-fed. She's wearing a smart red collar, with a disk that on one side says "My name is Copper" and on the other side it says "Please return me to the police station". (I had to smile, *Copper* is English slang for Policeman)

A police constable had spotted Copper in the corner of the house when we raided it, and had picked her up and taken her back to the police station. They *were* going to call the RSPCA, but apparently Copper decided differently. The police had a whip round to start a *Copper* fund, to pay for food and vets bills, and they kept her as the station cat! The duty night sergeants feed her when they come on and off shift, and they take it in turns to buy cat food.

Apparently she rules the station with an iron paw!! It really made my day!

Copyright © Helen Miles
June 25, 2001