Cats
I wake up at 4:00am to the distressed sound of ground level cries of pain. In a panic, I slip my shoes on, a sweater over my pajamas, and burst through my front door to the outside lane. The sound of a mother bird cries out and it makes my heart sick. There is no pain greater then a mother watching her baby die.
It is very dark. Too dark for birds to sing. I am aware of how ridiculous I look. It is my responsibility that my precious baby girl is a merciless cereal killer. The sounds of startled pain seem to get further and further away,. I know my cat is running with her “prize”, and that no matter how long I fumble in the dark, it will get to the point I am crossing over other neighbors lawns.
I can hear a wife saying over breakfast to her husband, “The oddest thing! I saw that Psychic down the road in our yard last night!” A guilty part of myself says, “If this were my child being snatched by a predater, would I give up the search? “ Sadly, I realize this is a bird, not my child, and I must go to bed and sleep.
As I lay down and doze off, the smell of skunk floats in the bedroom window. Is it the dogs this time? Even worse, my cat has carried the baby bird to the house, just within hearing. I am horrified, frantic, tired and strained with sorrow. Once again I slip my shoes on, and burst out the door in my pajamas. What will I do with the mangled bird once I have it? In answer the cries grow more and more distant as Meeko runs away with it in her mouth. It is 5:00am now. Other birds are slowly drownding out mama birds lamatations. I wonder how many mothers in the world are doing the same.
At times like this, as a compassionate person, I hate cats for the merciless killers they are. How can I love and own such a species? To watch your favorite tabby turn into a torture machine that smiles with wide wicked green eyes, ripping and lunging at baby animals, makes me wonder. If I was tiny, would it be me in my cat’s teeth as she runs my flailing body into the woods, my blue flannel robe piteously flapping in the wind? The answer is YES. Our relationship is based on who is bigger.
There is no use in sleep. I have added a new dent to my forehead lines. The sorrow is as intense as if I were watching babies tortured outside my house. The grief has dominated my sleep.. Sadly I rise, put on the coffee, and log into my “crisis” line. The phone rings. A woman is crying and wants to know why her husband did not come home last night. Through her dispair, I access out of mine. Meeko is inside eating her breakfast, the innocent sound of her little bell tinkeling. Soon she will watch the world go by from her favorite window.
I will end lean over her to say good morning and she will rub her little bird killing head on my facee in affection, a sleepy smile on her face. She and each cat in the house curls in their basket for the day. I will love them, brush their soft rabbit plush fur, and forgive them like a trillion other cat owners under the magical spell of cats.
