You’d think that nine lives would be quite enough, thank you very much, even for an adventurous cat like me. I don’t think I have many left, however, if any… With luck, what’s left will last me until ripe old age, now that I’ve found my home. It wasn’t easy, though — but let me tell you:
I don’t remember much of my early days, and this story begins with the time when I found myself in prison. No idea how I got there, and not so bad as far as prisons are concerned — decent food at regular hours, and fairly clean, all things considered — but prison, nonetheless. I was locked in a cage, and could hear lots of other four-legged furries, locked up as well. Sometimes, a fur-less two-legged creature would pay some ransom money and walk away with one of the prisoners. So, when I heard a human creature ask for a barn cat, I swallowed my pride and prayed he’d take me…
Sure enough, next thing I knew I was taken out of my cage and put into an even smaller box, which was made out of some stuff that reminded me of paper and seemed less sturdy than my former prison. As soon as I felt the box put down, I set to work and clawed and scratched and ripped and scraped until I made a hole. The box was shaking and wobbling all the time which freaked me out, but I kept going and after a while I was able to squeeze through the hole. Oh boy. I found myself on the open back of a pick-up truck, going so fast that the side of the road was a total blur. Later, I heard one of my new Moms say that this was one of the most dangerous highways in the country, but I’m getting ahead of myself.
I took one of my lives in my paws, closed my eyes and jumped. I hit the ground hard and tumbled around like a rag doll, but apart from some bruises I landed on my feet all in one piece. And started what I now call the endless death march. The smell of too many dangerous creatures was all around me, trucks and cars were zooming past at breathtaking speed, the merciless sun made me desperately thirsty, and still I kept trudging along, one paw in front of the other. Where to? I had no idea. Just had to keep going.
After what seemed like an eternity but was actually 8.3 miles as I learned later, something seemed to lift up my head and my spirits. I saw a tall, sturdy, long chain-link fence, and I don’t know what compelled me to climb across it — some sense of security, safety, even belonging, I guess.
Was I ever wrong, it seemed at first. Right after I found some shady spot underneath some bushes, I was being attacked by two vicious monsters and I thought my last hour had surely come. They bared their huge fangs and confused me with deafening barks so I couldn’t even get my claws out. One caught me between her teeth and was going to break my neck when I heard a human voice screaming and felt the nasty brute being pulled off me — in the nick of time. I couldn’t move and was hurting badly, my heart was racing, and then a soft blanket was wrapped around me and somebody picked me up and gently carried me to safety.
The next few days are a hazy blur. I have vague memories of an animal hospital, a bill of over $700, and of being called an unsocial critter because I hissed at somebody — what did they expect, with me being in pain and badly shaken? In the picture up there, you can see the fur growing back, but they were serious wounds, let me tell you.
Well, my luck finally turned and whatever is left of my nine lives should be enough. My rescuer saw beneath my ill-deserved reputation and adopted me. I have two wonderful moms now who adore me, and there are some other furry creatures who welcomed me and want to be friends. I totally hit the jackpot — how many cats do you know with a hot-tub? So far, I only use it with the cover on, but one of these days…