Solomon's Kitten

by Sheila Jeffries

  I was alive, but I still couldn’t move. I took a last look at Gretel’s tear-stained face looking in at me as they closed the doors. I felt the van driving away, with me in it, lying there, a useless dysfunctional wreck of a cat.

  What would become of me now?

  Chapter Five

  AN ANIMAL HEALER

  I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but my life with Gretel was over. For long days and nights, I lay in the animal hospital on a white bed with a light in the roof, listening to the whimpering and wailing from other cats and dogs who were stretched out in recovery beds in that place.

  The humans looked after me beautifully, and stroked me a lot, but their talk was gloomy.

  ‘This cat is borderline,’ I heard the man saying. ‘We don’t know what long-term effects the heat stroke will have. She could suffer from multiple organ failure and have to be put down. A pity. She’s only a young cat.’

  Every day they stuck a sharp needle in me and, yes, they took some of my blood! I could see it in the syringe. Then they put something in through another needle, and I felt better afterwards. Clever stuff. But I knew what I needed, and it wasn’t available.

  ‘What’s happening to me?’ I asked my angel.

  ‘It’s a window,’ she replied.

  ‘A window?’

  ‘A time of waiting, a time of transition between two life times.’

  ‘Am I going to die?’

  ‘Not quite,’ she said. ‘But you are like a cat sitting in the window, watching what is outside. You can’t move on to the new life we have planned for you until you help yourself to get better. You will need to be a strong healthy cat to cope with what is ahead.’

  ‘Help myself!’ I was surprised. I thought I could just lie there and let the humans work their mysterious magic with those needles and tubes.

  ‘All the purring and the medicine can’t make you right again,’ said my angel. ‘You need to HELP YOURSELF to find the healing you know you need.’

  How could I FIND anything? I was lying flat in an animal hospital. Angels can be so unreasonable, I thought, and twitched my back and tail. My paws quivered in frustration. I stretched each of my front paws, splaying my toes and letting my claws curl out, then in again. Bits of me were working. It seemed a good time to wash, so I lifted each paw to my mouth and began licking and brushing my pink pads and the downy fur between my toes. It felt good.

  ‘Oh, she’s washing!’ exclaimed one of the nurses who was walking past. She stopped by my cage. ‘Good girl!’ she said, like Gretel. Then the vet came and looked at me.

  ‘I think we’ll let Roxanne look at her later. Has she eaten anything?’

  ‘Little bits. She still doesn’t want to stand up.’

  ‘But she’s washing. That’s a start.’

  Later that day, the animal hospital went uncannily quiet. I wondered why. Then the main door opened and in came a girl in a blaze of light. Was she real? I stared, and found I could see a human in there, inside that blaze of light, just an ordinary lump of a girl with a long dark plait over one shoulder. I wanted her close to me, immediately. I couldn’t wait.

  My angel had told me to help myself, so I managed an echoing meow and at once the girl came to me and looked in with the most beautiful eyes.

  ‘We thought you should start with the dogs, Roxanne,’ said a nurse.

  ‘No.’ said Roxanne. ‘This cat. She needs me now. She’s right on the edge. I’ll do her first.’

  First. I was first! I meowed in welcome as Roxanne came right up to me, and the light from her aura flooded into my cage. She unlatched my door, and looked deeply into my eyes, like TammyLee had done.

  ‘I’m Roxanne,’ she whispered. ‘I’m an animal healer, darling.’

  As soon as I heard her voice and felt her touch, I wanted to cry, and I sort of did by sighing and making little mewling sounds in my throat.

  ‘Is it OK to take her out?’ Roxanne asked the nurse, who hovered beside us, watching and learning.

  ‘Sure. She’s not going anywhere. She’s just laid there for days.’

  Roxanne picked me up and sat down with me flopped on her lap.

  ‘What’s her name?’ she asked.

  ‘She hasn’t got one.’

  Again, Roxanne looked deep into my eyes. ‘Then I shall give her one,’ she said, ‘it will come through to me.’ I tingled all over. This girl of the blazing light was going to give me a name, a new, beautiful name, something I had longed for. I went on sighing and mewling, and with every sigh a stream of energy seemed to leave my body, as though my fur had been full of heavy dust weighing me down for all of my young life, and now, under Roxanne’s healing touch, it was leaving.

  I saw her hands, and they were full of colours as they moved over me. She went to my head first, and it felt like a soft cocoon of pure light was being woven around my skull, wrapping my face, my long whiskers, my ears, my nose.

  ‘This cat is depressed,’ Roxanne said to the nurse.

  ‘Depressed!’

  ‘Oh, yes, and deeply so. She’s been hurt and it’s never been healed. That’s what is stopping her getting better.’

  She knew. She’d looked into my soul. The relief was huge, it left my body in waves as her hands shone colours into me, deep emerald greens, hot white and glowing pink.

  ‘That’s it, darling. You let go of it all,’ she whispered to me, and my emotional pain shuddered through me, and began to leave. I saw it all. The very first hurt of my mum cat not liking me, the terrible shock of Joe tipping us in the hedge like rubbish. Then Gretel. Calling me Fuzzball. Calling me a BAD CAT. Calling me a DEMON. Shutting me out in the freezing fog. Locking me in the shed. And then leaving me to die in a hot car.

  Gretel hadn’t meant to hurt me. She didn’t understand. I’d forgiven her, every time, but the pain had burrowed into my mind and made me depressed. Now this wonderful animal healer, Roxanne, had chosen me – FIRST – and she knew what to do, what to whisper into my twitching ears. She wasn’t in a hurry. She spent ages healing me, sending colours into every part of my body.

  ‘You take as much as you need, darling,’ she kept saying. And I did. I soaked up the colour and the healing energy like a starving soul. Gretel had stroked me and played with me, but no one had loved me like this. I felt I’d come home. I felt lighter and lighter, as if I were a thistle seed that could blow for miles in the sunshine.

  Then I heard purring, and it was me. I was purring.

  ‘And now – I’ll give you your name,’ said Roxanne. I looked attentively into her shiny dark eyes and waited. ‘You’re very beautiful,’ she said. ‘Your fur has the colours of a waterfall in the sunlight: silver and black with a tinge of gold and snowy white. And when you are well you will leap and dance and run fast like the mountain streams. So I’ll call you TALLULAH. It’s Native American for “Leaping water”.’ She whispered this to me so softly, the words were like gossamer, precious and strong. I wasn’t even sure whether I was hearing them or whether she was sending them by telepathy.

  ‘TALLULAH.’

  I was thrilled. I had a name. A beautiful name that was full of music, a name that honoured my beauty and made me feel good.

  A buzz of happiness started inside me, and I rolled over and managed to sit up and purr my gratitude to Roxanne. I was determined to touch noses with her, and I stretched up, wobbling a bit on my legs, and kissed her glowing face.

  I was healed.

  I was a new cat.

  I had become Tallulah.

  Chapter Six

  BEING TALLULAH

  On the day I left the animal hospital, I saw the mountains for the first time. They were peacock blue against the sky beyond the town and I wondered why I’d never noticed them before. I studied them as we travelled along, through familiar streets, past the common and the elderberry tree where I had found Rocky. Dark berries hung from it now. It was late summer, still hot, but the car I was travelling in was airy and quiet.

  Being Tallulah
made me feel proud and excited. Not knowing where I was going didn’t bother me. I couldn’t wait to arrive and start my search for TammyLee.

  The car followed the river out of town, past its foamy places and waterfalls as it flowed down from the hills. I longed to get out and sit watching them, seeing the colours of my fur as Roxanne had described them. Silver, black, tinges of gold and snowy white. I longed to climb trees, and explore, chase leaves through the woods, hide in the long grass, and stalk mice in the moonlight. I was a free spirit now. I was Tallulah.

  ‘You must be patient for a while longer, Tallulah,’ said my angel as we turned into a farm gateway and down a track to a cottage. Immediately, I could hear the cats. There were other cats there, and all of them meowing. I hoped they would like me.

  But when the car stopped, I was again carried out in the cat basket. There was a lovely house, but we didn’t go inside. Instead, we went round to a yard at the back, and along the wall was a line of wire enclosures, each with a cat inside. Cages. Prisons. What a let-down! I was put inside one, and it had double doors so that I couldn’t escape when someone came in.

  ‘Hello, my luvvy.’

  A warm friendly woman welcomed me, and she smelled of cats. Her eyes sparkled at me. I meowed back.

  ‘I’m Penny,’ she told me, and I’m the cat lady, that’s what everyone calls me. I’m not adopting you, luvvy, but fostering you, and you can live in this lovely Cat Protection pen until we find a super home for you.’

  She came into the pen with me, and opened the door of my travelling basket. I stepped out politely, with my tail up and my whiskers shining in the morning sun.

  ‘Tallulah,’ said Penny thoughtfully. ‘That’s a nice name, and aren’t you just BEAUTIFUL! We’ll have no trouble finding you a nice home. You won’t be here for long.’

  She stayed in the pen with me, sitting on a chair while I explored my new home. It had some great perches I could climb up to and sit on. It had a little house with a window and a warm bed inside. There was a huge litter tray, and a post with rope wound round it and I spent some time smelling it. Judging by the claw marks, dozens of cats had used it as a claw-sharpener. In a box on the floor were some toys: a ball with a bell inside, a brand-new cat-nip mouse, a teddy bear and some other bits and pieces. I looked at them, but didn’t yet feel like playing. When I’d inspected every inch of the pen and found no way out, I jumped onto Penny’s lap and she stayed there for me, smoothing my long fur while I purred myself to sleep.

  Eventually, she got up and tenderly put me on the chair.

  ‘I’ll be back to see you, my luvvy. We’ll have lots of cuddles,’ she said, but I jumped down and followed her to the gate, meowing as she gently pushed me back and closed it tightly.

  Horrified, I ran round and round the pen, calling and meowing. Surely, I wasn’t a prisoner! I was Tallulah. I had a right to enjoy the world, to charge across lawns with my tail streaming, to scale trees and hang from branches, to dive under bushes and pounce on people’s feet. These humans who looked after me so well had taken from me what I most treasured – my freedom!

  And how would I ever find TammyLee?

  I sat by the gate, my nose to the crack where it would open, and then I waited, planning the speed of my escape, how fast I would dart out when it was opened. I looked out at the garden beyond, and the road winding away beside the river, and planned my escape route. I’d follow the river back into town, back to the bridge where TammyLee had left Rocky. She’d go back there, eventually, I was sure.

  When Penny came back with a dish of food for me, I did slip past her ankles and out of the gate, only to find she had cleverly shut the first gate and I was still trapped. Distraught, I gazed up at Penny with my golden eyes and meowed piteously.

  ‘Aw, you poor darling.’ She picked me up but I wriggled out of her arms and ran to the gate. Penny came after me, stroking and talking to me in a lovely voice, letting me smell the delicious meat she had brought me. But I didn’t want anything except my freedom. The need for it burned inside me, and I tried to convey it to Penny. She understood me, but she didn’t do what I wanted. She didn’t let me out.

  Night came, and I was still distraught. I ran round and round. I climbed the high wire fence in every place, searching, hoping for a hole to escape through. But it was rigid. I meowed and zigzagged around until my paws were sore and so was my throat. By dawn, I was exhausted and crept into the warm bed, curled up and slept until mid-morning.

  As soon as I heard Penny’s voice, I tumbled out, in such a hurry to get to her and beg her to let me go. Please, please let me go.

  Penny was in the next-door pen, cuddling and fussing a rather portly black tomcat who had watched me through the wire with a disapproving stare. He looked contented, and so did the ginger tomcat on the other side who was tucking into a juicy looking breakfast. I sniffed at my uneaten supper, which had gone dry and had flies buzzing round it. I ate a little bit, then jumped up to the higher perch to feel the sun on my fur and see the mountains.

  It seemed a good time to wash.

  Washing is a sort of ritual that stabilises cats. For me, it had become a time to think. I wanted Penny to explain to me why I was shut in, and for how long. So I sent her the thought, and when she did come into my pen, she sat down with me again. I stretched myself over her heart and reached up to pat her face with a long paw. I knew she loved cats, so why did she shut me in?

  She looked at me thoughtfully, and I sent my question again with all the power of my golden eyes and another pat from my newly washed paw.

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘It’s not much fun being shut in, is it, Tallulah?’

  I encouraged her with a purr-meow and a kiss on the nose.

  ‘You’re a very beautiful and intelligent cat,’ she said, talking to my soul. ‘And someone will come and choose you – a good person who knows how to take care of a cat. We make sure of that. We don’t let cats go to bad homes.’ Her hands were stroking my neck and rubbing behind my ears and under my chin. ‘It might be today,’ she said. ‘Or it might be tomorrow. Or it might be a long time, many dark nights. These two have been here for months, haven’t you, my luvvies?’ She pointed at the black cat and the ginger one, who were both washing and listening. ‘But you’ve got to choose too, Tallulah. Don’t go with someone you don’t like.’

  I stared at her, getting the firm tone, and the pictures she was sending me from her mind. Nice people coming to choose a cat. And I remembered. Gretel had chosen me. I’d been too small to resist. But this time it would be different, I was determined. Even if the people were nice, I wouldn’t go with them if it felt wrong.

  ‘I’ll put you in the paper this week,’ said Penny, and she took a photo of me with a silver camera, and showed it to me on a screen. I looked like the teeniest fairy of a cat in there, but I purred and touched noses with the image, and Penny laughed so loudly that the wire fences rattled and shook.

  After that conversation, I settled down and accepted that I wouldn’t be in the pen for long. I made the best use of the space, playing a lot and climbing and keeping my claws sharp. Two people came to see me the very next day, and I remembered Penny’s advice. It was a hard thing for me to do but I turned my back on them and went all huffy, climbing up to the top perch and sitting there, washing. It worked.

  ‘She’s such a pretty cat, but I don’t think she wants to go with us,’ the lady said to Penny. I watched the ginger cat next to me, who was meowing loudly and scrabbling at the bars, looking up at the two people adoringly.

  ‘He’s too old, really.’

  ‘And he’s a tomcat.’

  ‘But he loves you,’ said Penny. ‘Look at him, poor luvvy, he’s been in that pen all summer. And he’s got oodles of love to give.’

  The ginger cat eventually got what he wanted. He made a fuss of the two people, and ran into the cat basket with his tail up. As they carried him away, he was kissing the bars and purring, and his eyes danced at me joyfully. I felt so lonely.


  It got harder and harder as the days rolled by, and other cats came and went in the pens next to me. It got harder every time I saw one being taken home with ‘nice people’. I wanted my freedom. I didn’t want to get depressed again. No, I had come to this planet for a reason. I’d used up one of my nine lives and wasted my time with Gretel.

  I seriously considered going with someone who wanted me, and then escaping, following the river back to TammyLee. My angel said no.

  ‘Wait,’ she kept telling me.

  Penny told me she’d put my picture in the paper for a second time, and then something totally unexpected happened.

  People didn’t normally come in the mornings, so I was dozing in the sun, stretched out in the chair. I was used to hearing Penny’s voice as she bustled around the cat pens, and I was so sleepy and comfortable that I didn’t bother to open my eyes when I heard the click of the farm gate being opened.

  Penny was patiently explaining something to someone who didn’t want to listen.

  ‘But I saw her in the paper. I know it’s the right cat.’

  ‘I understand that, my luvvy,’ Penny was saying. ‘But I can’t allow you to take her today.’

  ‘But why not? It’s a perfectly good home for a cat. We’ve got a big garden. I’ve looked after lots of cats.’

  ‘This is the Cat Protection League,’ insisted Penny. ‘And we don’t home any of our cats until we’ve inspected the home they’re going to.’

  ‘You sound like you don’t trust me.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know you, do I? I’m only doing my job, dear.’

  ‘I thought you wanted a home for this cat.’

  ‘Of course we do.’

  ‘So I’m not good enough. Is that it?’

  ‘I’m sure you are, dear. I just need to make sure – for the cat’s sake.’