Six weeks. A month and a half. We were relatively still young, but not young enough for us to need our mother breastfeeding us every now and then. We were then able to eat solids, which wasn't of much help though, because our mother could barely find food for herself, so less could she find for all of us. But, nevertheless, I always kept up my hopes and spirits!
I was such an optimistic kitten.
We eventually couldn't take it anymore, watching our mother barely being able to stand, just to give us her share of what little she could hunt.
"We have to do something! We can't let her go on her own! Have you seen how skinny she's become?!" I would frantically scream at my siblings, trying to make them realize the gravity of the situation.
"She's fine." "Don't worry." "It's okay."
On and on went their stupid, ignorant comments. I was practically the only one to care about our birth giver, the cat who brought us to life, the cat who raised us, the cat we love, the cat we call mother.
"Don't waste your time talking to those fools, they never listen to you." Chat, my dear brother, he'd say that to me. "But I do." I'm glad I have him. It doesn't matter if I'm about to do something stupid or outstanding, he's there for me.
And, boy, have we done a lot of stupid and outstanding things.
"You promise?" I've always asked him that, for him to reassure me with his friendly voice, telling me it'll all be alright, telling me he won't leave me alone, telling me I can trust him.
"I promise." The smile and cute eyes he does when saying those words, they make me know he was serious about it.
We thought about everything we could, inside out, trying to come up with something to help our mother get some nourishment for herself.
By then, every time she insisted on us to eat our part, we denied and gave it to her instead. As expected, she stood her ground and neglected eating what was ours.
"I'm sorry, dear, but I can't accept it. I can't leave you two starving while your brothers and sisters devour their meals in such a hurry because of the hunger!" Her eyes were convincing, caring, showing us she'd do any thing for us, even if it implied to slowly starve to death.
"Neither can we, mother." Chat spoke in disagreement. "Look at you, you can't even walk! You're going to get yourself killed!" Mother cringed at his expression. "We know you care about us, and try to keep us all well fed, but we care about you too, mother." There was a small pause.
All our others siblings kept on with their food. They went on as if nothing was happening.
My mother's eyes were shining in such amaze and sadness at her son's argument. "I'm sorry, but I can't." She tossed the half-eaten chicken bone to us, and fled away, without another word.
Chat flinched at her actions. The fact that he actually shed a tear after she leapt out the window still haunts me today.
"No! Chat! Please don't cry!" I quickly hugged him, hoping that would've been enough comfort to make him stop, but it wasn't.
He didn't hug me back, he was shocked by mother's stubbornness. I don't know which hurt more, his lack of affect, or mom's escapade.
He stood angry for the rest of the day, until worry took over him.
I'll never forget that night, how the anxiousness and preoccupation ate through me, as I stayed up late, with Chat next to me, both expecting to see our mother hop back into the isolated room we had been living in since we were named.
Chat and mom argued in the morning, it was already past dusk, and she yet didn't come back. I lost my mind. The horrible ideas flew across my head. I soon started to severely hyperventilate and freak out, fearing that something might've happened to her. Something hideous.
"Calm down. She's coming back. I know it." His words took effect on me instantaneously, and slowly shushed me to relax my worries. Chat knows me too well, we've been together since birth, after all.
The seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours. I couldn't keep my eyes open for longer, I had to sleep, but at the same time I shouldn't, not without mom being here.
I close my eyes, and rest my head over Chat's shoulder, but I'm swiftly reawaken by his shrugging shoulder, telling me to get off. Not on the offensive way, but as if saying 'look'.
And it indeed was. There was a cat's shadow near the window, casted by the moonlight. Finally, mother was here, my worries were gone, and my sleepiness too.
"You're still awake?" She said, obviously surprised by how clingy we were. "I'm sorry."
"No, we are sorry." I spoke for Chat, he wasn't going to say it, he was still mad by her mulishness.
"We'll say 'sorry' later. Right now, you have to come with me!" The last words were enthusiastic, something had made her day, and not only hers, but it would make ours too.
"What is it?" Chat asked, nearing mom, turning into a silhouette himself, with the moon shining behind him. I then followed them.
Mother guided us to her new jackpot she'd just hit and left outside the house: a red, fairly sized bag with the word 'croquettes' splattered through it.
We couldn't contain our happines. Mother had told us about them, but we've never eaten them. Guess it was our lucky day.
But that's how a stray cat's life is, spontaneous.
YOU ARE READING
La Bella Vita Di Un Gatto Nero
Aventura"A cat has nine lives; for three he plays, for three he strays, and for three he stays." Chat, a black cat, adventures himself after he is left alone on the wonderful world of France, accompanied by his sister, Rouge. They both stray the streets as...
