Ressurection - Charlie

I was just out walking tonight, when the mums came home. Littlemum shouted 'Mum, it's Charlie! Well you wouldn't believe the fuss! Instant street party!
They picked me up and hugged me, and their faces did that wet thing that they normally do when the cats go still and they take them to the beach. But they were happy. They said my name over and over and smiled and laughed, and Bigmum ran inside and bought out food, mostly for me but some for my outsidey acquaintances too.
There was Impay, and Rita-from-Brazil-where-the-Nuts-come from, some Georges, Mummycat and Furious Muriel and we all had some food.
The mums were jumping up and down and saying my name over and over and that they were so glad to see me so they could truly believe it was not me in the murder movie.I don't know what they mean. I have been away for two fat moon-times, about 50 or so human days, but what do they expect? I am special. Unique. I was the first (and best) Kitling. The only Charlie-bear. And I should be treated just so.
I chose to live with them when they only had a few cats, and I was the special baby. I used to snuggle up with Littlemum and go for long walks with her and Dog. But then things changed. More and more cats came to live, and kitlings got borned. And I didn't like it one bit. I hate them all. I come to call just sometimes, and rub my scent on the Mums' legs' but I refuse to go inside the gate or let them cuddle me for long, and I slash and I growl to show my total displeasure that they haven't got rid of all the others yet.
So now, especially in these warm-times, I stay away, just letting them see me now and again, just for a little touch, to make them realise how much they miss me. I might consider visiting them more often if they do a street party like that each time. When the cold-time comes, maybe I will go inside the house and look gorgeous in front of the fire and let Littlemum snuggle me again. Just maybe...