From Bad Luck to Best Friends: How a Hapless Kitten Named Clumsy and a Hopelessly Unlucky Chihuahua …

My wife is driving our dog to the vet, and shes beginning to suspect shes made a terrible mistake. Now, instead of just one unlucky creature in the house, there are suddenly two.

It all started the day the kitten arrived. Well, arrived isnt quite rightshe found him among the bins out back. Someone had thrown the poor thing away like rubbish.

My wife went out to take the bins and returned with a new family member. We named him OliverOllie for shortafter the word unlucky because misfortune just clings to him.

The very first thing Ollie did was climb up onto the table and stick both his front paws straight into a steaming bowl of stew. As my wife tried to grab the yowling kitten, he managed to dip his back paws into the clotted cream dish on the side. From there, it all went rapidly downhill.

Ollie constantly gets into scrapes. Once, he managed to twist all four legs just by jumping off the bed. Whenever he knocked glasses, bowls or vases off bedside tables and desks, they inevitably landed on himhe seemed to always be in exactly the wrong place at the wrong time.

If there was salt left on the dining table, everyone would shield it with their hands, because they all knewany moment, Ollie was going to leap up and send it flying!

He was electrocuted three times, if you can believe it. Most cats wouldnt survive that, but somehow his guardian angel was watching closely. Every time, the vet managed to revive him.

Several times, he nearly drowned in the mop bucket. Thankfully, he was always rescued just in time, and after the last incident, the bucket was never left unattended.

Ollies approach to jumping is unique. He never lands where he means to. He crashes into everything: corners, mirrors, armrestsyou name it.

You get the idea.

My wife even took him to a few local wise womenthe kind who read fortunes and offer to lift curses. Theyd shake their heads at his luck, took a few quid, rolled eggs over him to draw out his run of bad luck, then quickly refused to ever see him againespecially after he destroyed their treasured tea sets.

Eventually exhausted from managing endless catastrophes, my wife turned to a friend for advice. Her friend suggested Ollie might benefit from a companionperhaps another cat or a dog.

This idea made my wife really happy. For a fair bit of money, she bought the ugliest dog you could imaginea Chihuahuamuch to the delight of our daughter.

Why ugly, you ask? Well, have you ever seen one up close? They only just resemble dogs as it isand their bark, or is it a cough, is hard to describe until youve heard it. If you know, you just know.

It didnt take long to discover the truth. You see, we live in our own house, and as is often the case here, theres the odd mouse about.

Ollie wasnt scared of mice at all. In fact, he enjoyed watching them and occasionally joined their games of chase. Because of this, we set some old-fashioned mouse traps about the house.

Not long after, the new dogwhom wed named Alfiemanaged to get himself caught in one of these traps.

My wife rushed the yelping little creature to the vet, all the while convinced shed committed a grave error. And just like that, our home now had two hopelessly unlucky residents.

Ollie took Alfie under his paw. They went out into the garden together. Watching them, you quickly realised they needed constant supervision.

Theyd get into trouble with ants, wasps, and bees; the geese would chase them, and the chickens would peck them without mercy. It was just one thing after another.

But then something changed.

My carwhich I drive to workhas always been kept parked just out front. Fortunately, theres always enough space. Every morning, I head out, cup of tea in hand, lock the garden gate, get in, and drive off.

One morning, Ollie predictably knocked my tea, sending my toast to the floor, but instead of hiding, he sprinted to the hallway and blocked the door, utterly determined to stop me from leaving.

I tried nudging him aside but was rewarded with a sharp scratch and an arched back in protest.

You little pest! I shouted. Youve spilled my tea and dropped my toastnow youre attacking me? Get out of the way!

I went to nudge him with my foot, but before I could, a strange creature rocketed out from under the bed. Coughing like an old man, Alfie hurled himself, trembling, between me and Ollie, standing as a pathetic but fearless barrier.

That tiny dog bared his little teeth, determined and angry:

Youll have to get through me! I might die here, but Im not leaving Ollies side!

Things were getting ridiculous.

Oh for goodness sake! I sighed in exasperation. Im going to be late for work!

I rushed back to our bedroom where my wife was still sleeping.

Come on, love, get up! I need to go to work, but those two wont let me leave!

Who? What? she mumbled, barely awake.

We both went to see what the commotion was about. But before we could do anything, a tremendous crash sounded from outside.

We ran out to find a milk lorry, brakes gone, had ploughed at full speed into my car, reducing it to a mangled heap of metal.

My fresh cup of tea slipped right out of my hand . . . The ambulance took the poor lorry driver away with a heart attack. Accidents do happen…

******

Since that day, Ollie and Alfie let me leave the house just fine, though I always pause at the door to consult them:

All right, ladsanything out there I should be worried about?

Alfie bares his tiny fangs and nods solemnly.

You might think theyre lucky now? Not a chance!

These two continue to stumble into every possible and impossible mess. Theres always some new drama. But these days, no one throws their hands up in despair or keeps a tally of damages. No one complains about being jinxed or down on their luck.

Now, theyre cuddled, kissed, wiped down after a run-in with a stew or cream. Alfies got a smart new collar, and Ollie has scratching posts in every corner plus his very own bed.

Of course, Ollie never sleeps in his own bedhe much prefers the bottom of ours, though he falls off in the night and wails the house down.

At his cry, Alfie comes running from his own bed, barkingor coughingvowing to protect his beloved Ollie from any harm.

After a half hour or so, everyone piles back into bed. Alfie and Ollie get tucked in between us, and somehow, we manage to sleep through until morning.

And if you dont quite see the point of all this, wellfeel free to skim on by.

But as always, its simply about love. Believe me, Ollie and Alfie arent cherished for being lucky or unluckytheyre loved just for being who they are.

And that, Id say, is the greatest luck of all.