That Skinny Feline

I like to say that I like animals, and that they do not like me back. Who cares, I still like them! 

I have been attacked by half the creatures on the Ark; be it dogs, cats, crows, cows, chicken, bees...even a monkey and a scorpion! Mostly, I did not deserve it. I swear, I really did not. But I still do approach animals willingly and am usually welcomed with wagging tails or friendly meows.

The locality I live is as close to cat territory as can be - cats are everywhere, on rooftops, window ledges, porches and the streets. Stand anywhere and look around, odds are that you will see at least one ill-tempered pair of eyes glaring at you. A couple of cats routinely showed up at my front door, twice a day, to ask for meals, and were happy with what was on the menu. 

Did I say "ask for meals"? No, to ask would be beneath them. Demand. 

One fine morning, I noted one of the cats was being extra friendly. Sweetly purring, walking between my legs and staying there, being totally cute. It was nice to be treated that way - cats aren't normally too cheesy. Another fine morning, a few days later, I realized that she is getting plump around the belly. I had no clue how to be sure, but she did look like she was expecting a litter. I did the obvious - fed her better and assumed that would be all. The naivete! 

Fast forward a few weeks, I was brought face to face with the depth of the shit I had landed into, when for the first time she flatly refused to get off the bed. In hindsight, there were signs, of course. She spent a lot of time at home - initially in a corner gazing, later strolling leisurely around the house. She was welcome to do that, as long as she took herself outside when she had to "go". But what I presumed to be gazing, was actually her plotting murder. What I assumed was a leisurely stroll was, after all, her on an inspection round. 

I would walk into rooms and find her napping on the bed. I would push her off, and she would find another spot on the floor. That quickly changed too - she started complaining after she got off the bed. Then she started complaining before she got off the bed. One fine morning, she refused to budge. I nudged her little tushy, and she didn’t even look at me. I pushed hard enough to slide her body along, but no luck. The insolence! I tried to lift her off, and she reacted - swatted my hand away with her tail, as if I wasn't worth much more effort. I persisted, and she swiped at me. 

And that, friends, is the story of how I lost my bed to a cat with a deflated butt and an inflated ego. 

Looking back, I think that was the turning point of our relationship. That was the day she became the overlord and I the vassal. 

Skinny little thing that she was, she did put on a wee bit of weight - mostly around the belly. Another thing changed - she lost all her grace. Every last speck of it. I had been around cats right since my childhood, and I always knew cats to be poised and elegant. You don't even need to be around cats - turn on National Geographic any day of the week and they will show you a cat (larger, of course) sitting beautifully in the shade. Chin up, paws tucked in, tail neatly at the side. Or a cat running - legs smoothly flexing and stretching in tune with a thumping background score. This skinny feline was initially the same, elegance personified. She had the bearings of a Queen, the nawabi thaat, if you will. But lugging a bunch of babies around in a belly the size of your fist can be exhausting I assume, because this girl totally gave up on grace. And once you have seen a cat be graceless, you will never see her the same way again. She will forever be awkward and shapeless to you - the magic is ruined. I found her spread-eagled on the bed once, fast asleep in an ungainly pose, jaw open. Looked more like she had come back from a wild bachelorette party than anything else - she wasn't just asleep; she had passed out! Look at her yourself!

Eventually, she did have a healthy litter, at home, just as I thought she would. Three ugly little kittens, skinny like her too. Took them a week to start looking half decent, after which they only got cuter every hour. For reasons unknown, I expected the mother to change into a more maternal creature, gentler if I may, and hoped that some of the warmth would extend towards me as well. I had helped her have her first litter after all! Not to mention the attitude I tolerated right through her pregnancy! Not to sound self-centered but come on now, I sacrificed my dignity for her pregnancy as much as she sacrificed her virginity! Of course, I was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

From a vassal, I was reduced to a handmaid. She did the nursing, I did the cleaning. She did the grooming, I gave her massages and rubs. She slept fourteen hours a day, I tiptoed around my own house like a thief fourteen hours a day.

Eventually, they all got adopted and moved out, but no that wasn’t the end of it now, was it? The cat got knocked up again. Came looking for me again. Settled in nicely and had a litter in the same room again. Minor difference – this time our relationship skipped the “vassal” bit and went straight to handmaid. Major difference – this time there were five kittens. Got the kids adopted again, the cat moved out again. End of story? Nah. More kittens!

Having raised a dozen of her kittens, I do hope she retires soon. But that would be the end of an era, and as much as I love to hate the way she treats me, I do miss her. All said and done, she is just the right amount of ugly, the perfect amount of demanding, and extremely lovable.

May your kindle thrive, you beautiful monster!

Sherlock, Robin and Nancy

Butterscotch, Pixel, Oddball, Jazz and Pumpkin

Nemo, Oreo and Coco

P.S - For more pics of  Begum or her kittens, feel free to get in touch. Pretty ones are rare and chargeable; funny ones will be free of charge 😉