Mouse

Oh dear, a Mouse

When we moved into the permanent accommodation allotted to us I inherited a resident cat, who responded to the  unimaginative name of Puddy. She was an affectionate old thing and had been looked after by the previous occupants so I happily took over as her care giver.

One morning I was sitting out on the veranda sipping my morning cup of tea, when I saw Puddy rushing along with something small and black in her mouth. I grimaced with disgust thinking she had caught a mouse, but when she dropped the sodden object at my toes I realised it was just a  new born kitten. I had never seen such a tiny little thing and picked it up gingerly not really knowing what to do. I decided to make a cosy home in the guest room for my feline family and would leave a window permanently open so mother cat could come and go as she pleased.

who grew and grew into

The little one grew into this amazingly beautiful jet black tom whom I adored as my own child. Unfortunately the name that came to mind when I first saw him was what my baby was called - Mouse! I felt a deep unexplainable affinity for this animal and never having brought up a cat before I came to realise what fun, funny and entertaining creatures they can be. Once while walking home in a drizzle after a party late one night, I was met by a wet and bedraggled bunch of fur who had been patiently waiting under a bush for me all the while. I remember thinking that this did not seem to be typical behaviour for a cat, from what I had heard and read.
My friend Lalima lived upstairs and she definitely did not share the same adoration I felt for my pet. I was startled to see her in a very angry mood at my door one afternoon and asked her what the problem was. She demanded that I immediately change the name of my stupid cat and I laughed hysterically when I heard the reason why she was insisting on this. She had been summoned to her daughter Antara's school by a very worried class teacher who gently told Lalima that there seemed to be a problem. Antara was a bright girl in many ways, she stated, but  just could not understand why every time she was shown a picture of a cat or asked to spell the word, she would seriously insist that C-A-T was Mouse!

Mouse fell ill a year and a half later with some sort of bronchial problem and I was totally helpless since there were no vets around whom I could consult. My heart shattered when he died in my arms just a couple of days later. I wrapped him in a fancy black shawl and asked my husband to dig a little grave for him in the back garden. I sensed Sud wanting to say something about the expensive shroud but he saw my pathetic state and held his peace. Everyone around knew how shattered I was and I had people coming over to commiserate and say how sorry they were for my loss, as if God forbid, someone in my family had passed away.

Once I got over the grieving I felt it was somehow for the better since we would have had to leave Mouse behind when we moved out on posting, which I think would have been more difficult for me. My baby had a short life but it was a comfortable and happy one and I would never have to worry about how he was managing without his mama, or if someone was taking care of him the way I did.

MOUSE