"Hello, Sweetie"
When
I grew up, we always had pets. I'm not sure if it was a question
about teaching me and my siblings responsibility or if it was simply
something my parents always agreed on to make us happy. There were
always animals around us, and I've always loved animals.
I am 11 years old, one of my older sister's friends has got a boyfriend who is allergic to cats so, the cat ends up at our home, much to my own and my brother's joy as we had recently lost another cat.
Her name is Luna and she is the most beautiful, elegant, black cat I've ever seen. You could just get lost in her yellow eyes, and as I care deeply for her, she quite quickly starts returning my affections. I am a little worried but also amused by all the frequent visits we begin to have from other cats in the neighborhood.
At the time, my dad worked in Copenhagen and would typically be gone every weekday and return on the weekends. My mum often allowed my younger brother and me to sleep in her and dad's bed and she would take the couch in the living room, next to us. I think she did this because I suffered from fear of the dark or abandonment, but I'm not sure. Maybe it was just her nature to let us be as comfortable as possible.
This one particular night, I slowly wake to a howling sound. It's like tiny screams, and I immediately think Luna has caught a mouse next to the bed and the mouse is screaming as it lies dying. I am drowsy from sleep. I look over the edge of the bed and see the shape of Luna, her black fur casting reflections in the moonlight. Next to her is indeed a small animal, all wet, fur shining leaving spots on the carpet floor. We always kept the bedroom door slightly ajar and when I realize what I am looking at, I walk out, without waking my brother. I start to poke my mum who is still asleep on the couch. It's still very dark, and the only sound is the distant noise of squeaks from the bedroom, not even a wind from outside."Mum"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but... Luna just gave birth to a kitten"
Her eyes open wide and she stares at me."What?"
The rest goes very quick. Mum picks up a small, old dog's basket and a lamb skin which she brings to the bedroom. I don't remember if my brother wakes up; I have all my focus on my cat and her newborns. The first one is still on the floor, howling. The basket is placed right next to the birthing cat and I just sit staring at her, waiting. I had been told many times not to touch a cat's newborns or else she might reject them due to the smell of human on them. But that makes it all the more strange that while Luna is meowing like never before, she has her eyes locked on mine while she walks back and forth, back and forth from her firstborn to the basket...
Somehow, I immediately understand what she wants me to do, so I move, pick up the kitten in my hand, feeling it's weight in my hand. It's still very wet, as I gently put it down on the lamb skin in the basket. Afterwards Luna seems to calm down a bit. My young mind feels a sort of gratitude towards my cat as she has shown me a sort of trust I didn't know was possible in animals. My mum says she'll take over and watch to make sure Luna and her kittens would be OK and I could go back to sleep. Everything seems so surreal at that moment and my focus gets lost in my mum running around, getting towels and my cat, and her kittens making noise.
She had four kittens. Three females and one male.
We decided to keep the boy, as we simply thought it would be nice with two cats.
I've always loved animals, but cats in particular have a special place in my heart. People often joke around, saying cats are the devil's minions, they have no emotions, only care about themselves and so on, but from my experience, I know it's wrong. Cats are intelligent and if you treat them right they will start to trust you and show it as well. I was grateful that my beloved pet showed me that she trusted me, but I was even happier when she gave birth to what would be the best pet I've ever have. The cat we decided to keep is almost 11 years old today. When he was born I thought he was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen, so my young mind thought it fitting that I named him "Sweetie".
It might be silly but at the time I really felt I had received the sweetest gift ever.
He has black fur, with a white muzzle, white paws, white belly and she most dashing yellow eyes you could just get lost in.
I am 11 years old, one of my older sister's friends has got a boyfriend who is allergic to cats so, the cat ends up at our home, much to my own and my brother's joy as we had recently lost another cat.
Her name is Luna and she is the most beautiful, elegant, black cat I've ever seen. You could just get lost in her yellow eyes, and as I care deeply for her, she quite quickly starts returning my affections. I am a little worried but also amused by all the frequent visits we begin to have from other cats in the neighborhood.
At the time, my dad worked in Copenhagen and would typically be gone every weekday and return on the weekends. My mum often allowed my younger brother and me to sleep in her and dad's bed and she would take the couch in the living room, next to us. I think she did this because I suffered from fear of the dark or abandonment, but I'm not sure. Maybe it was just her nature to let us be as comfortable as possible.
This one particular night, I slowly wake to a howling sound. It's like tiny screams, and I immediately think Luna has caught a mouse next to the bed and the mouse is screaming as it lies dying. I am drowsy from sleep. I look over the edge of the bed and see the shape of Luna, her black fur casting reflections in the moonlight. Next to her is indeed a small animal, all wet, fur shining leaving spots on the carpet floor. We always kept the bedroom door slightly ajar and when I realize what I am looking at, I walk out, without waking my brother. I start to poke my mum who is still asleep on the couch. It's still very dark, and the only sound is the distant noise of squeaks from the bedroom, not even a wind from outside."Mum"
"Hmm?"
"I'm sorry to disturb you, but... Luna just gave birth to a kitten"
Her eyes open wide and she stares at me."What?"
The rest goes very quick. Mum picks up a small, old dog's basket and a lamb skin which she brings to the bedroom. I don't remember if my brother wakes up; I have all my focus on my cat and her newborns. The first one is still on the floor, howling. The basket is placed right next to the birthing cat and I just sit staring at her, waiting. I had been told many times not to touch a cat's newborns or else she might reject them due to the smell of human on them. But that makes it all the more strange that while Luna is meowing like never before, she has her eyes locked on mine while she walks back and forth, back and forth from her firstborn to the basket...
Somehow, I immediately understand what she wants me to do, so I move, pick up the kitten in my hand, feeling it's weight in my hand. It's still very wet, as I gently put it down on the lamb skin in the basket. Afterwards Luna seems to calm down a bit. My young mind feels a sort of gratitude towards my cat as she has shown me a sort of trust I didn't know was possible in animals. My mum says she'll take over and watch to make sure Luna and her kittens would be OK and I could go back to sleep. Everything seems so surreal at that moment and my focus gets lost in my mum running around, getting towels and my cat, and her kittens making noise.
She had four kittens. Three females and one male.
We decided to keep the boy, as we simply thought it would be nice with two cats.
I've always loved animals, but cats in particular have a special place in my heart. People often joke around, saying cats are the devil's minions, they have no emotions, only care about themselves and so on, but from my experience, I know it's wrong. Cats are intelligent and if you treat them right they will start to trust you and show it as well. I was grateful that my beloved pet showed me that she trusted me, but I was even happier when she gave birth to what would be the best pet I've ever have. The cat we decided to keep is almost 11 years old today. When he was born I thought he was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen, so my young mind thought it fitting that I named him "Sweetie".
It might be silly but at the time I really felt I had received the sweetest gift ever.
He has black fur, with a white muzzle, white paws, white belly and she most dashing yellow eyes you could just get lost in.
Ingen kommentarer:
Send en kommentar