Aslan was born in Nuneaton in 2005, the tiny ginger fluffball runt of a litter of mostly black and white cats. He moved to Coventry with his sister Lilith, marking his territory upon his arrival to the city by pooing behind the VHS player.
He was very close to his sister at the start, and she would often sacrifice her dinner to the tiny growing lad – an act she would make up for later in life by insisting on finishing everybody’s dinners, cat or human.
So diminutive in size was he at that age, that he was once believed lost by Tara – only to be found sleeping on a bookshelf in the space between the top of one book and the bottom of the shelf above.
He genuinely went missing some years later, sneaking out of the house to get some peace and quiet after a house party. He was seen roaming the streets – and yet eluded capture - for several days before he turned up in a neighbour’s house, having been locked in whilst they were on holiday. It was only the trail of tiny moist footprints between the stairs cupboard and the sink that led to his eventual capture and return.
Twist then joined the fray, and she adored Aslan. Becoming his partner-in-crime, the two were inseparable, often found sleeping together on top of the boiler - or with her sprawled over him when he was desperate for some peace and quiet.
His primary hobbies included snoozing, napping, and sleeping – with a keen interest for lying on his back and kneading imaginary air-biscuits with his paws if told in a soothing voice that he was a good boy, which indeed he was. Nicknames included Alan, D.B. ("Dat Boy"), Azzy-Pops, Captain Cabinets and Corporal Rumblebum.
He grew up mostly enjoying solitude and his own company - but after the death of his sisters and a harrowing mourning period in which he could be found wandering the house and keening – he became quite the social butterfly, insisting on sprawling over whichever lap would house him best.
He became notably food-oriented in later years, thoroughly enjoying most snacks with a special penchant for Lick-e-Lix cat yoghurt. Many will know him from Tara’s photographs of his attempting to help himself to food from human plates. As a strict disciplinarian, he was very insistent on adhering to the rules of The Cheese Tax at every opportunity.
He lived to the ripe age of eighteen, having led a thoroughly healthy and happy life – with vet visits only needed for cleaning out his mucky ears when he was a kitten, necessary vaccinations and having his furry ginger testicles removed, an act he never quite forgave his human owners for.
He was the best boy, and his human friends will miss him dearly.
Aslan Court – 2005-2023
The Three Mousecateers, reunited.