In front of you stands Victory Care Home, a neat and tidy building with a car park at the front and trees standing guard over its precious residents. 

 

Look a little closer and you will see the sparkle in the cat’s eyes, the birds singing on the windowsill and maybe notice a sense of mischief in the air for...

 

“this place is full of stories too, some of them might surprise you.”

 

Alfie the cat was sitting by the Victory Care Home entrance. He was a beautiful long haired tabby with grey and brown fur. He was elegant and noble and it was time for him to make his weekly patrol of Victory. Victory wasn’t his home, “nobody calls me a pet” he meowed, but every few days he would sneak in through an open window or run through the double doors.  He saw himself as a security cat and liked to check in on the residents as often as possible. It was purely for their sake and nothing to do with the treats he would be showered with.  

 

Alfie was wild, he was adventurous, and that’s why he liked to visit Victory. Within these walls lived singers, dancers, knitters, bakers, you name it, this place had it. 

 

Before long the entrance opened and in he darted. A large family had arrived.  Swirling around their ankles,he found himself carried on a tidal wave of visitors all off to see a loved one. 

 

As the visitors turned left Alfie looked to his right. He could hear music coming from the lounge, “that sounds like my cup of tea” he thought. Padding in he saw the residents foxtrotting their way across the carpet, as they had done on countless nights at the Welling Embassy. Waltzing though former glories dancing the ballrooms of Canada, America and Australia. These feet danced tales from around the world, moving so fast that they seemed to levitate, to hover in the air with joy. 

 

In the corner a flexible resident kicked her legs high, her toes almost touching the ceiling. Alfie joined in, stretching out his long legs, he couldn’t quite create the same pose, but was rewarded with a head scratch and tummy rub for trying.

 

Alfie trotted on, Victory was full of stories he needed to find. Down the maze of corridors he went, weaving his way through friends and tales for another time.

 

Spotting an open window, he leapt outside into the garden. He inspected the vegetables, potatoes check, tomatoes check, peas looking good.

 

Returning to the lounge, Alfie’s patrol continued. This time he followed his nose. He was getting hints of sponge cake and chocolate gateau, great cakes for grand occasions, Old Spice and Eau de Cologne, cedar wood and Scotts pine; the smell of pie and mash, Fish and chips on the front and a far-flung spice market in exotic climes. Scents that told their own tales. Aromas of family trips to Chatham, West Ham, Dalston, Dartford, Port Elizabeth, Shillong, Farmbrough, to the Isle of Wight, to all sorts of different places and paces of life.

 

Alfie had reached the last corridor on his patrol. Ahead of him, a resident was filling her pockets with books before going out - this would stop her being blown over by the wind outside! Life experience stops her being knocked off course nowadays. She chuckles as she thinks of her younger self, always worrying. How she wishes she could tell her to be determined, to stop pleasing people and follow her own path. Placing one more book in her coat, she heads off to the library.

 

His patrol complete, Alfie stopped outside the activities office. Purring loudly he was rewarded for his day's work with treats, then let out of the front door. He’ll be back next week to check everyone is ok, and to hear more stories, for there is always something new to learn at Victory Care Home. 

 

If you could give your younger self advice, what would it be? 

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Lead the way feathers!

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