The Neighborhood Animals

Chapter One: Pippo

“The only escape from the miseries of life is music and cats…”

 ~ Albert Schweitzer

Chapter One: Pippo

Secretly, they were all very jealous of him. But to hide those real feelings, they would all make fun of him. They had all seen him from a distance – but none of them had a way of getting even remotely close to him. Even though they’d had heard the girl call him by his name a hundred times, they still preferred to call him “house cat”.

“My name is Pippo, you good for nothing lousy fur balls,” Pippo had yelled from his perch at the window, down at the two kittens making fun of him.

“Ooooh look the house cat learned to speak cat language,” one of the street cats laughed, pointing up at Pippo’s house. His name was Brown.

“I was afraid he’d be able to speak human,” his companion, White Little, joined in the fun, “hey house cat, how is it like being caged up like that?”

“When I get my paws on you,” snarled Pippo, “I am going to kill you.” Then he literally jumped out of his skin, as a soft hand landed on his neck. He relaxed, when he realized it was merely scratching him behind his ears. He purred in delight.

“What’s going on, Pippli-Pie?” asked the soft voice of his teenage owner, “Are those kittens back again?”

“Meow,” said Pippo, miserably, craning his neck to look at her and hoping she would understand, “meow, meow, meow.”

“Oh, I know you want to go outside,” she said, quietly, “But I am afraid those two would pull you into shreds…”

“Just let me out once, mini owner,” said Pippo, indignantly, “and I’ll shred them both to bits!” But the only thing his mini owner heard was a very, very angry meow.

It had been four months since the little owner had found Pippo on her doorstep, and begged her parents to let her keep him. They’d obliged but a bit reluctantly. Pippo could still recall the very first day; he’d laid his large green eyes on her.

He was merely two and a half months old when he found himself sitting before the door of a house labeled, “Basu Roy”. He was meowing – in what he hoped was a piteous cry for help. There was the sound of a car honking in the distance and he heard footsteps, as someone flew up the staircase.

Then he saw her: the girl who would rescue him and give him food and shelter. She looked about seventeen or eighteen, clad in her school uniform of blue and white. Her hair had come undone from the ponytail she’d made in the morning. She dropped the school bag from her shoulders, and too the little kitten in her arms.

“How did you get here, kitty?” she asked him, scratching him behind the ears, “Where’s your mommy?”

“I wish I knew,” he tried to tell her, “Some douche bag left me here!” But all she heard were the meows.

When her mother answered the door, after she’d rung the doorbell, kitty’s heart had sunk on hearing the first two words out of her mother’s mouth, “Absolutely not.”

“But…” the mini owner had tried to protest.

“No way, Mia,” her mother said, decisively, “Remember the little dog you’d brought home not too many years ago?”

“But he will die without our help,” the girl, whose name kitty now knew to be Mia, protested, “How can I be so cruel to such an innocent creature?”

“You have two days,” her mother said, finally, “Find him a home!”

“Two days, find him a home,” ranted Mia to her friend, Jijo and Zinnia, “That’s all my mother had to tell me. I rescue a perfectly cute kitten from the cruel world and that is all she says?”

They were sitting in the classroom, waiting for the Assembly to start in about ten more minutes. Jijo patted her awkwardly on the head.

“Calm down, we’ll find him a nice home,” he assured her.

“Why don’t you take him?” asked Zinnia, “I am sure your mother won’t mind.”

“I live on the fifth floor, my dear. I think commuting from the outside world to my house will be bit of a problem for Mr. Kitten.” Jijo replied, rolling his eyes. He turned his attention to Mia, “Okay, you still have two days…we’ll figure something out.”

“I posted a picture of Mr. Kitten in my Facebook profile, with the caption – ‘Does anyone want to adopt me?’” sighed Mia, “But so far I’ve got only one response.”

“From your sister?” asked Zinnia, apprehensively.

“From my sister,” confirmed Mia, “And if only it was a helpful comment.”

“Why? What did she write?” Jijo asked, curiously.

“‘Ewwwww….nooooooo….and it’s on MY bed’” quoted Mia, sullenly, “and it was followed by a ‘hey, did you clean its paws?’” she rolled her eyes, “I swear, she’s miles away and all she cares about is her precious bed. Never mind the kitten might die if I leave out in the streets again.”

“It’s not that,” said Jijo, gently, “Your sister is a dog person…like me,” he added softly, “But we’ll find Mr. Kitten a new home.”

“Before that, we need to find Mr. Kitten a new name,” said Zinnia, “I cannot imagine what we’ll be writing on the posters we put up for him – Mr. Kitten for adoption? That’s lame.”

Mia nodded silently. She’d been up the whole night, tending to the kitten. The kitten unfamiliar with the new place kept crawling all over her room. Jumping from her bed to her sister’s bed – sometimes even walking all over the half asleep Mia, making her almost jump out of her skin. She was almost nodding off now in school, when the Assembly had not even started.

 “Pippo,” Zinnia finally said, snapping her fingers, “We’ll name him Pippo.”

That was how Pippo had finally got his name. When Mia had suggested the name at first, there were initial protests. Then everyone began calling him ‘Pippo’, so the name stayed. So did the kitten because an owner couldn’t be found in two days.

Mia picked Pippo up in her arms, walked into her parents’ room and said, “Look, I am willing to take responsibility for Pippo. I’ll pay for his litter box, his food, his basket and even the food he has to consume. Please let me keep him.”

Her parents looked at each other, and then her father gently patted Pippo on the head, “Fine. If your sister wants it so much, you get to stay Pippo.”

Mia had given Pippo a rib crushing hug to which he’d said, “Meooooowww…..” which was probably cat for “Oh my God, woman! You’re crushing me to bits.”

Pippo fell into the habit of following Mia’s mother around. He thought since Mia claimed to be his sister, they must share the same mother. So, would follow her around, brown tail swaying behind him and settle down wherever Mrs. Indira Basu Roy settled down. Sometimes Mia would come cuddle him and put him in comfier places to sleep in. He noticed her going out of her way to be with him and defend his every mistake, that he named her ‘mini owner’.

Now four months later, the two of them watched Brown and White Little leeching up their window, and hurling kitty abuses at Pippo. Mini owner didn’t understand the language, but she knew something was going amiss. She just didn’t know what.