The Cat Who Grieved

He lay curled up in the straw, in his box by the back door. Each time I looked, there he was. The days turned into weeks and still he lay there. He must be getting up sometimes, to eat or pee. I put his dish next to his little bed so he could smell it. His water was close by. He is a barn cat. He was born in the garage and went to live in the barn when he grew up. His mother was a small cat who we met at a farm. She was born outside under some stuff, and when we went to the farm to pick up our milk she begged us to take her home. She wasn’t old enough to leave her mother, but her mother had died and so we brought her home. We called her Amelia. There never was a smarter more playful cat than Amelia. She would hide under Chloe’s bed and when I went to tuck her in at night Amelia would reach her paw out and scratch me. Then she would run away to another room. I would have to lift up the bed skirts before I got close to the bed. Sometimes I would take a big step right up onto Chloe’s bed just to say goodnight. Other times she would hide at the top of the stairs and peek her head around to see if you were watching. She would reach her paws under the bathroom door when you were in there. She was so much fun. Then one day she decided that she wanted to be a mother. We found her in a box in the garage with 5 kittens. They were gorgeous, beautiful little things. We got her all set up but she wanted to be left alone. So we left her for a couple of weeks. We set up a food and water station in the garage but we left her alone. One time she let me babysit. She meowed for me and I went over to see her. She got out of the box and came back and forth a few times before she went outside. I watched the babies, they were getting bigger and more curious. Their eyes opened gradually and they began to wobble away from their home. One day she took an unruly kitten and put him far away from the others. I watched in horror as the little thing cried while she nursed the others. After awhile she went and got him and he didn’t make the mistake of straying again. He snuggled in and she cleaned him up. I didn’t know that cat mothers used ‘time out’. When they got older the whole family moved into the barn. They had a beautiful home carved out in the straw. Chloe set up a station for their food and water. The days were full of wonderful kitten adventures and I took a video of Chloe playing with them. She stood on the play structure at the top of the slide with her fishing pole. On the end of the line she had a rubber toy. She cast out onto the grass and the kittens chased the rubber toy across the lawn and part way up the slide. She had a lot of fun with them. Amelia was a great tree climber. She climbed trees like a squirrel, jumping from limb to limb. It was fantastic to see. Soon the whole cat family were climbing trees and playing in the branches. As the kittens grew bigger, Amelia grew smaller. She was not the tease she used to be, but a gentle, loving, wise mother cat. She taught them to catch mice and to eat them. They began to outgrow her and we put a sign out by the road. Chloe had given them names and one by one they went to new homes, to be the companion to a little girl or a grandmother. We stopped giving them away after three. The last two were inseparable. One was black with small white specks. We called him Speckles. The other gray with some white. His name is Fifi (feefee). They walked side by side together. They lay together all wrapped up with each other. They ate together and climbed trees together. In the mornings they would follow me out to the chicken coop to open the doors with me. They would sit by the coop door and watch the chickens coming out, one by one. Then they would follow me back to the barn where I would feed them. One day Amelia was gone. She was gone for several days before she came back. But she came back to die. She wanted to see her kittens and us first. She had a lot of horrible injuries and we think she may have been attacked by coyotes. Coyotes kill a lot of cats around here. We buried her under the lilacs, beside the well pit. Chloe painted a cross and decorated it with flowers and painted her name boldly across it. Mark put it in the ground and we said prayers over her. We thanked God for letting us have such a wonderful pet and to please take care of her now. It was a difficult moment and very difficult for Chloe. Speckles and Fifi became even closer after that. They began to sleep at the back of the house so we moved their box of straw. I still found them sleeping in the barn though when I went out to feed the chickens. They were cool cats. They would catch sparrows in the laying house, together with Shelby our golden retriever. Speckles could hold a sparrow in one paw up against the wall while waiting for Shelby to grab it. Fifi could jump high and grab one out of the air. Amazing feats for those two barn cats. Then one day Speckles was gone. Mark found him on the road and we buried him next to his mother and put a cross over him. Chloe painted his name on it. Fifi watched and sat with us at his grave. Later that day I saw him in his box. He slept and slept. He slept like that for a long time. Then one day, a couple of months later, I went to see him and pet him and he was gone. I looked around and he was walking down the path. He began to leave his box more and more. He is still not the same as he used to be. He may never be. But he has a new routine and I’m a part of it. He doesn’t help with the chickens anymore, nor have I seen him climbing trees, yet. But he catches critters and helps with the gardening. He is learning to live again. We love Fifi.

Elizabeth Williams, daily writing exercise, 1,146 words.