Not Just a Cat

 Ever since I was little, my life was so filled with cats that I literally couldn't imagine one without them. This indicates all the long stories that I have to tell, but now is not the right time. It is my idea to write a separate autobiography about the furry tenants that lived in our garden, and this story that I shall now relate is only a page or two out of it.

When we left the rather rural suburbs to search ease in the capital, there was only one of the cats living in our back yard. With utter sadness I said goodbye to him, and he loyally waited for us in the neighbours house, greeting us with joyous meows upon return.

It wasn't as if there weren't any cats in the heart of Colombo. The following afternoon returning from school we met one scavenging the garbage left to be disposed by the municipal council, and retiring into its hiding place after crawling under our gate. pretty soon we heard tiny meows, and then multi-coloured little kittens. At that time we lived in the upstairs part of the building in that block, and it was not until three years later that we had the opportunity to move into the more spacious apartment downstairs.

And it was about seven months after this that this incident occurred.

The stray cat that wandered about our premises was grey and white - very much like the one in our school - but this one was not at all used to our company. She would flee in fear at the mere glance I would give in her direction. She did chase away all the rats, but the fear compelled her to be careful as to which particular area of ground she chose for her toiletries. 

Owing to the presence of a female cat, we were often encountered by her knights-in-armour. The girl was always a win, but among her suitors competition was high. This resulted in some hilarious episodes that are worth being related, which will - as I hopefully believe - come the light in a year or two.

Once the female's out of heat the males will return to their old residences, and owing to the above mentioned episodes the ugly stray and the cutie who had wandered away from his owners both look more or less similar - covered in dirt and fleas and scars. And in return our own tenant will - after wandering around for a month or two with a bulging belly - would finally resolve to give birth in the safest place she can find - the roof.

The sunshade above the windows of my parents' room happens to be the ideal nursing ground in her opinion. However, while battling her personal dealings with us, she found it quite impossible to nourish and bring forth all her offspring. So it was unlikely that more than one of her kittens safely land on the soil at their own accord.

This window from my parents' room showcased the most pleasant view - a tall thorny tree from the citrus family and a smattering of other little plants grown most wildly in their enthusiasm to catch the light. And it was to this view that I poked out my neck, in search of the kitten with the pathetic yet rather annoying wails.

Aha! There it is! Just under the big tree. Probably about a month old, and was covered in a fluffy white fur coat. Did it have grey patches like its mother? It was difficult to tell in the dark, but I wasn't feeling very much interested at the moment. The kitten was walking with feet that wiggled with drunk-like weakness, with its back turned to me. It was still wailing pitifully, but it didn't see me. I shut the window and went back to minding my own business.

But the wailing didn't stop. Gradually the cries became much louder and pathetic, until it nearly sounded like a human child. I shook off that whimsical fancy and took to assume that it was searching its mother. Where the hell was that cat?

Anyone in my position would've been unable to bear it. And like what anyone else would do, I looked out again. Though I was annoyed at this constant disturbance the kitten's cuteness was overwhelming. This time it noticed me, and meowed. And I meowed back.

Only, I wished I hadn't. No sooner than the sound left my throat another sound met me at my ear - a low and ferocious growl that I hadn't heard in about four years - about four years after I had the chance to interrupt my cats while eating.

But this was different. As I looked down, I met eyes with the creature whom I had thought to be delicate as a flower petal. But I was wrong. Here she was, with her perky whiskers, flattened ears and sharp eyes, along with a mouth of protruding front teeth that quivered in snarls.

I didn't take this seriously. As usual, I too, prepared to combat with widely open huge eyes and a sturdy face with pursed lips.

The cat too, kept her stance - gracefully standing between the kitten and myself. The pupils that were dilated for the night showed nothing but loathing, and she kept on baring her fangs, producing sharp and  loud hisses to throw me off balance.

And it did. Being caught off guard, all my bravado raced down to my stomach, and was replaced with a fear that churned my insides. I hurriedly clasped at the hook and pulled the window down. In my fear and haste I couldn't shut the window at once, and I had to reopen it and shut it several times. During these times the cat still sat with her cold eyed supervising the event, hissing whenever we made eye contact.

It was finally a massive relief that poured into my burning chest as I finally got the window closed. Inside I was all burns being frozen alive. Maybe I had a light flush of embarrassment. After all, who gets shooed by a cat?

Well, probably you'll be too if she has a kitten.g