In January 1956 we moved to a big old house on Iona Road in Glasnevin, Dublin, to accommodate two parents and eight children. The move was planned with precision. Uncle Paddy brought us in his car, in relays, and the removal men followed with our furniture and tea chests.
The house was big, and each room had a button that rang a bell in the kitchen. We raced around pressing bells, and dashing to the kitchen to see which would ring next. Mother was driven distracted. There was even more excitement when it started to snow heavily. Mother worried the truck would be delayed but it came and the work began.
As we emptied tea chests, I screamed when I found a set of teeth among the cups and saucers. My scream brought Mother rushing to see what had happened. She thought one of the boys was playing a bad joke and said, “Throw that dirty thing out”.
Later, when the delivery men sat down to a welcome pot of tea and sandwiches, one jumped up shouting , “Me teeth, me teeth, I’ve lost me teeth”. In the silence that followed, Mother explained what happened. “Can I look?” he asked. “I borrowed them from the mother-in-law, so they were loose. She’ll kill me.”
We watched as he and his men searched through the snow. The cold made them give up. Back in the warmth, Mother asked, “How did you lose them?”
“Must have been when the cat jumped out of his crate at me,” he replied.
There was consternation. “Our cat,” we cried . “We forgot Topsey. We have to get Topsey.” Dad and Uncle Paddy went back but no sign of Topsey. What a terrible end to the day.
We searched for weeks but couldn’t find him. One night, Mother heard mewling at the front door and there he was, leaner and bedraggled, our beloved Topsey. Mother carried him to the fire and fed him, but he ignored us until he was stretched out at the hearth feeling the heat in his bones. Then he allowed us to stroke him. We never found the teeth.
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