I sulked when she curtailed my enjoyment of discovering new things, or my investigation of forbidden cupboards, by locking me into the laundry for “time out”. It was punishment for ignoring her demands after several requests. She picked me up, said “naughty cat” several times, and then locked me in the tiny room with soap powder and dirty clothes. Though my stay in the laundry was brief, I hated every minute of it. Consequently, it did not take me long to learn the basics of obeying her, even when it did not please me. The special treats gained for being “a good girl” made it worthwhile.
Karen played a variety of games with me when I was little, and she still does. I can tell that she enjoys playing as much as I do. We play with long feathers on a stick that tickles and move fast, or pretend, creepy snakes. She throws tiny balls for me to chase and retrieve too.
My favourite game is still Hide and Seek. Karen hides first. Though I can smell and hear her, wherever she is, pretending that I can’t find her is an important part of the game. I run through the house calling meow meow. Then I pounce on her. She strokes me from head to toe, laughs, and gives me a few tasty, small biscuits. When it is my turn to hide, I make it easy for her to find me, or it would take too much of my time. When at last she spots me, I jump up to her and purr loudly. Biscuits follow then too.
I learned to appreciate Karen the hard way. She is rarely sick, but one morning when I was about eight months old, I heard her complaining. When she tried to stand, she fell back onto the bed. Miserable and in pain, she lay in the darkened room for three days, unaware of me. Tony fed me, but forgot to change my water. I drank from the dripping tap.
Without Karen to look after me, I was lost and afraid. I realised then, how important she was to me, and not only for my food. I loved her more deeply than I imagined.
As I developed into an adult cat, her gentle words helped me to forget the rough hand that threw me next to the garbage bin. I became a confident cat, rarely afraid unless I was threatened. I learned about the bliss of lying next to her, the delightful aroma of her body, the thrill of tummy tickles, and gentle chin rubs. Food was another form of her loving, whether she gave me pebbles, chicken, or divine, fishy treats. Most of all, I learned that life with her was beneficial in every way.
One sunny afternoon, I was sitting on Karen’s lap after lunch revelling in a tummy rub, when she told me that she had decided I was old enough to become a Therapy Cat, or as some called it, an Emotional Support Cat.
I looked up at her. A Therapy Cat?
‘Bella, my sweetie, you will be in your basket in my therapy room while I am talking or listening to sad and worried people. Your job will be to follow your affectionate instincts by comforting them and easing their sadness. Your deep purr and cuddles will be important ways you will help them.’
I understood, or I thought I did.
‘You’ll be my first Therapy Cat. Samantha, the darling, was too nervous with people for that special type of work. You are at ease with them, and they like you. I am sure that you will be a great Therapy Cat’
She stroked my head and rubbed my cheeks. I glowed with delight and pride. It is important for a cat to feel useful and to have purpose.
‘One thing, Treasure...you will need a certificate from the vet before you can work with me.’
Fat Rats! What was a certificate? Whatever it was, it seemed strange that I needed it, and from the vet, before I could help Karen with my purr therapy.
Humans have so many rules. Some of their rules like this one seem unnecessary and useless.
She took me on another bumpy ride to the vet. This time, I was not concerned about the visit. We saw the same Human with large hands. When he placed me on the cold table, he was gentle as he examined my small body. I trusted him.
Any problems with Bella?’
‘No she’s a delight.’
‘Do you feed her raw meat? Some authorities believe that a raw diet spreads bacteria and parasites to people.’ He shrugged. ‘It doesn’t make sense to me. In the wild most of a cat’s diet is raw meat.’
‘She eats nothing raw.’
‘Good. You don’t want her blamed for making anyone sick.’
He felt me all over, as he talked. ‘Cats don’t judge people or ask questions. They are a calming presence. People relax with them. As a person looks into a cat’s eyes, a bond between Human and cat is formed. Their purrs are thought to lower a person’s heart rate and blood pressure. Being emotionally involved with a cat also helps people to forget the past and themselves, and creates a sense of wellbeing.’
He held me firmly and felt my claws.
‘Her claws are too sharp and too long, and could be dangerous. I know that Bella is not aggressive and wouldn’t scratch anyone, but the tips of her claws need trimming. Watch how I do it, and be sure to do this every few weeks.’
I didn’t like the idea of losing my Cat Weapons, my sharp claws, but I had no option. He worked quickly and I felt no pain. My claws were intact. They could still function as they were meant to.
‘All done! Bella had all the vaccinations she needs when I last saw her. She is set to work safely with people.’ He stroked my head. ‘With your easy-going personality, you’ll make an excellent Therapy Cat.’
He wrote on a piece of paper, gave it to Karen, and we left.
What a thrill. I was now a fully-fledged, certified Therapy Cat and ready to start my new job as soon as Karen needed me.
‘Come, Sweetie. I need you in the therapy room,’ she calls.
Meeeeow! I’m coming!’ I answer excitedly.
This is my first experience as a Therapy Cat. I run to my new basket in the sunny corner of Karen’s room at the front of the house, waiting to do my job. It is a comfortable basket, but a workbasket. It isn’t as soft and warm as my sleep basket. After all, I am expected to stay awake during therapy sessions. I promise myself that I will not drop off to sleep unless the sessions become excessively boring.
Perhaps I will find some answers to my questions about Humans.
Two Humans enter the room. A plump, worried looking mother holds the hand of a small, skinny girl. She is trembling like a scared kitten.
‘What a beautiful cat,’ the girl says, approaching me cautiously.
I’m a little tired of hearing how beautiful I am, but it is true, after all.
‘Talk to Bella, she likes children...and she won’t hurt you,’ Karen says.
The child moves closer and bends over me. I smell her sweetness like new spring grass. She has curly, yellow hair and green, cat-like eyes. She holds out her small hand, waiting for me to approach her. I know what to do. I withdraw my claws, purr loudly, and place my paw in her hand.
I sense that she is a special child, who loves and respects cats.
‘Bella, I had a cat too. His name was Chi,’ she whispers to me, as she pats my head. ‘I loved him lots and miss him so much. He was very sick and died. I was sad and still miss him.but I’m not allowed to have another cat. Chi’s fur made Dad so sick that he couldn’t breathe.’
After talking to me and stroking me a few times, she stops trembling.
‘Leave the cat now, Mia. Come and sit over here,’ the mother insists.
Reluctantly, she leaves me to sit next to her mother. While they all talk, I pretend to be asleep, but I listen and watch. This child is interesting. She moves gracefully – almost like a cat.
The mother looks from Karen to her daughter. ‘I don’t know what to do. Mia is seven, and being bullied. Children in her class pull her hair and call her nasty names. She is nervous and refuses to go to school. I’m very worried about Mia and hope you can help her.’
Mia begins to cry. ‘They’re horrid and call me a freak.’ Cats Alive! How dreadful! I remember as a tiny kitten barely able to stand, my bigger, fatter brothers and sisters pushed me away from mama, so that they could have most of the milk. I was hungry all the time. It was awful, but it was a long time ago.
This child’s body will grow stronger, but she n
eeds to learn how to become stronger inside, and to stop being so upset. Humans worry too much!
Tears fall like rain from the child’s eyes. I go to her, rub my head against her legs, and then put my paw on her knee. I look at her, so that she knows I understand how sad she is. She is too little for me to sit on her lap, but there is space for me next to her on the chair. I jump up close to her and purr loudly. Soon she stops crying.
‘What an amazing cat!’ The mother says. ‘Mia seems to like her.’
‘Bella understands,’ the child says.
Karen looks at me with her loving look.
This is my first attempt as a Therapy Cat, so I’m pleased Karen is happy with me.
Karen listens as the mother talks again. They talk for ages and Karen asks many questions about Mia. Most of it passes over me, but I hear that Mia is smart for her age, and is talented too. She plays something called a violin.
‘If it’s okay with you, Mia, I will talk to your teacher about the bullying. I’m sure she will help to stop it. With her support, I hope you’ll feel more confident about going back to school,’ Karen says.
Mia nods, but still looks unhappy.
Karen takes Mia’s hand. ‘The first step is to try to be brave, and to go back to school to show the bullies you’re not scared of them. Take it slowly, and with your teacher’s support you’ll feel more confident, I’m sure.’
The mother nods in agreement.
Cats know about bullies. Dominant, aggressive cats are part of Cat Life. We come across bullies constantly. The dominant cats dislike anyone who is different or new in their area, and attack viciously if their territory is crossed.
Mia’s teacher may be able to help her, but Mia will have to learn to stand up to the bullies...hiss and growl at them like we do when we are threatened by Cat Bullies. She will have to find a way to keep them in their place, but it will not be easy for her. Though I may seem quiet and friendly, if a strange cat would dare to enter my territory, I would hiss and snarl.
‘Please come to see me again in a week, to tell me what’s happening at school,’ Karen says. ‘I promise to keep in touch with your teacher. Together we will sort it out.’
‘I hope we will,’ the mother says.
Mia looks at her mother, and then gives Karen a halfhearted smile.
I shift around in my basket. I wish Karen would hurry up. I’m starving!
At last, Karen stands.
Mia touches my head. ‘Meow, meow Bella,’ she says softly.
The room is empty now, but it smells of Humans. I roll and stretch in the next room, where the air is fresher.
Karen strokes me affectionately. ‘You were great with Mia, my sweet Bella. Thank you!’
‘Lunch, Bella,’ she calls.
I run ahead to the kitchen and see her filling my bowl with the same little pebbles I usually eat for lunch. Reluctantly, I eat the hard bits, while she is perched on a high chair. I smell her food – vegetables, that are not at all tempting. Perhaps there will be something tastier for my dinner.
After lunch, we snuggle up together on the couch like two cats. This is one of the special times of my day.
For a few precious moments, I sense her with me in Catland.
‘I love you, Bella, and the children who come to see me will adore you,’ she says, as she tickles me in all the right places. I go on a short trip to paradise. When the joyous tickle is over, I rub my cheek against Karen’s arm and purr loudly to say, thank you. As she relaxes, I fall asleep in her arms.
While we are together, I am totally hers, filled with Cat Love for her. I think of nothing else but her, and the pleasure of being with her. As soon as we move apart, the spell is broken and I have other thoughts. Sometimes, I wonder why love is like food for Humans. They need such a lot of it – constant refills and reassurance, and it is consumed incredibly fast. Perhaps being so big and having almost no hair on their bodies has something to do with it. We are little and have our fur coats to keep us warm inside.
Rats! Tony is in a bad mood today. He curses and stomps complaining of feeling sick. Soon he begins to sneeze and cough. He puts on his pyjamas, even though it is a hot day. He mutters as he goes to bed, and sleeps for a long time. When he wakes, he is grumpy. He calls loudly for Karen, and asks for hot tea.
‘It must be that cat of yours making me sick,’ he growls. ‘She is on our bed every night. No wonder I am sick. I gave into you when you brought her home and wanted to keep her, but I shouldn’t have. Now look at the mess I’m in!’ He rubs his eyes and sniffles.
I feel all his negativity directed at me.
My fur stands up on the back of my neck. Insulted, I turn my back on him, pretending he does not exist.
I listen to Karen trying to soothe him. ‘I’m sorry you’re not feeling well Tony, but it’s not Bella’s fault. Remember our darling Samantha? Her long hairs were all over our bed. I had to change the linen every few days, but you didn’t complain about her.’
‘Well get that cat out of here,’ he says in his whining voice. ‘I don’t want her near me when I’m sick.’
‘Stay in bed today. I’ll bring you a hot drink with lemon and honey, and I’m sure you’ll feel better soon,’ she says and gives him a hug.
Fat Rotting Rats! I turn around to glare at him, and very slowly leave the room. I will not go near him now. He has upset me dreadfully.
When he recovers and returns to work, we continue to ignore each other.
We cats are sensitive and proud creatures and have excellent memories. We do not forgive those we dislike.
Today my house is bright and sunny and big, black, humming creatures fly around. Trying to catch them is fun, but not easy. They must have many, busy eyes, and see my paw just as it is about to swat them.
Karen is out shopping and I will have a lazy day. The house is mine, and I race down the passages as fast as I can to free myself of built up energy.
Through a side window, I watch the children next door playing with a ball. They bounce and throw their ball, and enjoy themselves. Their dog is running after them yapping.
I have come to the conclusion that dogs have no sense and react to everything.
What stupid, pack animals they are, constantly on the lookout for a leader. Imagine one of those spoilt doggies alone in the wild. They couldn’t survive without the their pack of dogs and a leader. In the wild, we cats sometimes live in colonies, but we hunt alone, and manage just fine. Dogs have relied on Humans for so many years that they are unable to think for themselves. Dreadful! They follow their owners with idiotic loyalty and even lick them all over. A cat is far too proud and independent for that form of subjugation.
I am about to fall asleep on the big bed, snuggled into Karen’s soft pillow with the sweet scent of her hair. It is my favourite sleeping and dreaming spot. Anyone who has watched a sleeping cat’s eyelids flicker, or legs twitch while they sleep, will know that we dream.
Sleep is a miracle, and it removes me from the world to a place of peace broken only by dreams.
I wake refreshed from my dream.
It was a cold night, and I was alone on a high, mountain peak. Cold wind swirled around me, carrying the sounds and scents of animals of the desert. I sniffed the air and surveyed the endless sand and hills of stone beneath me – my territory. Little food was available in winter, which meant that my hunting area had to be wide if I was to eat. After catching and eating a bird, I drank from an almost dry mountain spring.
In the morning, I remained on the mountain where I was safe, and slept until the sun disappeared.
I dream this dream often. It reminds me of who I am – my Cat Heritage from many, many moons past.
I lie on the soft bed with no one to push me away, scold, or hurry me. Relaxed after my sleep, I do my washing, just as mama taught me. I wet my paw with my rough tongue and begin with my heaviest fur. My tail needs a thorough tongue clean too. Each claw I pull out with my teeth, lick clean, and wash. Then my soft pink bits require a l
ot of cleansing, tongue work. My tongue with its tiny barbs does a great cleaning job. Fresh now, I stretch, and roll on the bed to remove any of my dead hairs. Then I jump off, leaving my hairs on the bed, rather than on me.
Cleanliness has always been essential to Cat Life. Removing our scent, allows us to sneak up on our prey and catch it.
I enter the cool, white bathroom. Into the shower I go, pee over the little round thing with holes in it, and watch my yellow liquid run through them. It’s all gone. This is the best peeing place in the house. I like the clean, cool feeling here, so I do this often. The best part is that Karen and Tony will not find out.
Now I check my house, my Cat Territory, leaving my mark on every corner, on all the carpets and all the furniture.
Distributing my scent is a huge, but important Cat Job. This is my house and it must have my scent.
Tony will freak out when he sees my hairs on the bed and carpets, but I will ignore him. He will no doubt mutter curses about me again, while he uses that buzzing machine, they call a vacuum. Karen is smart to leave the buzzing to him.
When I think of it, I wonder if Tony realises how smart Karen is. She usually gets exactly what she wants with little hugs and kisses. In her own way, she is very much like a cat. But, I have to admit, that he is far cleverer than her with things that need knocking, or fixing.
Before I arrived, he made a tall, indoor tree for Samantha. Well, it is mine now. I enjoy climbing onto the platforms and hiding in the tunnels. The carpet material around it is perfect for exercising my paws and leaving my scent.
I am about to go through the cat door into my garden to play, when I hear Karen’s voice. ‘Bella, Bella, Treasure, I need you now!’
There is an urgent tone in her voice. Though I usually take my time to respond, I follow her immediately to the therapy room.
I settle in my basket, as she hurriedly tidies her desk. A lean, sixteen-year-old in denim jeans and a T-shirt walks hesitantly into the room.
Bella Page 2
