Sunday, August 20, 2006
Sunday Scribblings - The Inner Life of Pets
I don't know what has happened to me, my people, I tried to tell them but they didn't understand, I am lying here with these memories going through my head.
I remember the day I went to live with them. The man who looked after me scooped me up out of my pen and the older of the two females took hold of me and cuddled me. I sniffed, she smelt kind, she was stroking me and I felt warm and comfortable, the younger female, stroked me too and told me I was sweet. Then the man took me again, put me inside something that was cold and dark, it bumped about shaking me I backed into the blackest corner and made myself as tiny as possible. Through the walls I could hear the younger female talking to me saying that we would be home soon. The bumping stopped the air smelt different, light engulfed me, the older female's hands brought me out and put me on top of a table in a room. There is a man there as well, he tells the older female what a good choice she has made. I look slowly around, its a lovely bright room, I can see a bowl of food, one of water, in a corner a litter tray and on a shelf between some baskets a furry nest and a soft cushion. The younger female says 'Lets name her Pixie.'
I know there is another cat outside the kitchen door. He is a very important cat, runs the neighbourhood cat group and goes on travels to communicate with other cat groups. Mainly communications regarding important things such as, where the best hunting is, new cats seen, new kittens born, which people are kind to us and might give us food or a bed if we can't get back to our own people one night. This cat seeks out my mind and tells me that the door was always open for him to come and go but my people have closed it in case I get out and get lost. He tells me he is looking forward to meeting me properly, he gives a plantive meow which causes consternation with my people. The older female picks me up, the male opens the door and a large toroiseshell cat meanders in looking as though he owns the place. The male picks him up and we meet nose to nose. The other cat says, 'we'll meet when you are older and are allowed out, after you injections and operation.' I don't know what these words mean, but I like that cat.
I never met that cat outside, something really bad happened to him, he doesn 't live with his owners next door anymore and they are sad. I often see him in my house though, he is vague in what he tells me and says he is waiting here until he is called elsewhere. He also seems to appear and disappear. As for the injections and operations, I don't ever let myself think of those, they were bad scary times, although I sense they were done to help me be healthy.
My people play with my every morning I can jump really high and hunt and pounce we all have fun together. One morning I am taken outside down into the garden and they place me on the ground, what smells, what textures, what wonderful things to explore, I am estatic. One time I go out and everything is white and when I run round my paws get cold and wet and the white is cold on my nose, but I like to run round and see my paws making prints.
I am allowed out anytime in the day now, but have to come in at night. I do not have to use the litter tray anymore, I hated that, the back door is always slightly open for me to come and go. I can explore the whole garden and lie and sleep in the sun. I realise now that I am an adult my job is to organise my people because that is what we cats do. I sleep at the bottom of my human's bed but when it starts to get light, I check by sitting in the window the degree of lightness, then I get my people organised. I always get the male up, I move onto the bedside table, tap his arm and say, 'Come on organise yourself mate, busy day ahead, food to eat, animals, to hunt, cats to see.' When he doesn't respond I just extend my claws a little bit and gently press them on his skin, he knows the game is up and he must get up and feed me. Then later I run back upstairs and get my female person up by the same method, I don't know how they would cope without me, and my final morning task is to check that the humans next door all get to work properly.
Three cats have arrived to live on the other side of me and they say there are eventually two more arriving, how lovely to have some friends. The big black cat is the boss cat, they all have to do what he says, the other two are female, like me, but he needn't boss me around like he does them. He tries to frighten me lurking outside my back door hissing and pouncing. 'Can't catch me slowpoke,' I shout, as I hiss at him and dart under the fence, 'ha' he is too big and slow to squeeze under. The other two cats arrive, one by one, both ginger toms, they are nice, one with shorthair and one with long. I like the one with short hair very much, he tells me about all the times he has been left behind and had to survive by his wits and how he likes to go a wandering off on adventures. Sometimes at night, he stares up a bedroom window and whispers to me to go to window and we have long conversations there. The cats show me a lovely secret place where they have their meetings and parties. Down at the end of the scrubland, behind the hedge is a disused orchard and a small pond, no people can get in and we can really live our true lives here. Other cats pass through staying here every so often, they tell you wonderous tales of the world.
The people with the cats have gone, they have only taken the black cat, the others are cold and hungery, my people are organising food for them and I hear them talk about shelters, and good homes for them. One by one the cats are taken by the kind man that looked after me as a kitten, so I say bye to them and hope they have better luck with their next homes. I do feel lonely. I have made a new friend the dog next door, she misses her friend, that was the big tortoiseshell cat, we rub noses together and walk round each other and we begin to take turns at calling for each other and lying in the sun together. I find her talk difficult to understand at times, but we manage.
I've seen some other cats, I was sitting in the dining room window and across the road I could see two cats in big house yard, I must meet them. I have met the cats, though they tell me it is dangerous to go over to them, bah, I'm quick and young I can make it. It's just such fun having friends again, I wish I could make my people understand I love them but I need cat company, if I could make them understand that maybe they would bring me a friend to live with me.
I do not feel right this week, I know, that I have not got long to live with my people, the black vague cat that appears in the house, along with the tortoiseshell told me, I feel unsettled, I'm jumpy and my people feel it too and keep saying 'Whats's up Pixie?'
My memories are going, I'm confused, I feel a presence trying to calm me, its the vague black cat, everything is fading, whats happening. Oh I am standing beside the black cat looking at myself lying on the road, the black cat leads me away and my big old tortoiseshell friend is there with me as well.
The above is in memory of the late beloved Pixie, if you have read any of my earlier posts you will know about the demsie of two year old Pixie, the five cats we saved and about the ghost cats that inhabit our cottage. Yes, Pixie, does make her people aware of her presence every now and again. She is now one of the ghost cats.