You are a lovely ginger tabby tomkitty. You have come to live in a lovely Den, with Simians who caressed you and cuddled you and fed you the good grub. It was cozy there, and warm all the time, and full of snuggling-places and friendly hands. You were happy.
But then you were put into a box, and the box put into the Box-That-Growls and the strange movements made you sick and scared. You howled your misery out and angry voices hissed at you to be quiet. You can’t remember how long this strange journey lasted but suddenly the movements stopped, the Box-That-Growls didn’t growl anymore and your box was taken out and brought into a strange Den and you were let out. Strange smells, strange place, but your Simians acted as if they were completely at home and you reasoned that -just as Mama Cat would bring her kitlings to a new and safer spot from time to time- the Simians must have done the same for their kitlings.
But after a few days they started putting the stuff they hang around themselves in boxes again and all got into the Box-That-Growls. The Simian kitlings were mewing but the Papa Simian said:”He’ll be fine here. He’s a hunter, he has plenty of prey and plenty of space, this is the perfect place for him to live, and when we come back next vacation he will be here for you to play with. He’ll no longer wreck our house this way. So stop sniveling !” And they went away.
And you were alone.
Outside of the Den. Outside of the warmth and the cuddles and the good grub.
The other kitty-cats didn’t like you, you are a stranger. The few Simians who remained didn’t like you either, you may carry vermin and disease, like the other feral felines. You grew hungry. You grew cold. Prey was scarce with so many feral kitty-cats around. Other prey was simply too big (ever seen a cat trying to kill a boar ? you won’t, because cats are smart enough to realize that anything with that kind of tusks is deadly) and some even hunt YOU.
You miss the cuddles. You miss the Simian hands gently stroking your pelt. You are alone and very very miserable. Even the sole Simian who insists on feeding the Carious Tribes will not cuddle you because he knows that you are full with vermin and possibly carrying a disease. That Simian tries to give more than food, he also gives medication. He tries to give the females special medication that stops them from having more kittens. He is not liked by the other few resident Simians of that Vacation Village because he keeps the feral population alive. But he insists he loves animals and even though the Animal Welfare Society has spat him out like the human-hating stubborn recluse he is, he goes on with his meager means and manages to drag the Carious Tribes through the long hard winter every year again. But you will get no cuddles from him.
Then there is the Abode of Plenty. The other kitty-cats have whispered amongst themselves that when one Box-That-Growls stands in front of it you may sometimes expect some food to be thrown outside. But when there are 2 of those strange things then the Good Life starts. Because 2 Simians that come in it are always calling them with food in their hands and generously throw so much at you that your belly is soon bursting and you are sated. They also try to approach you, the ferals whisper with awed voices, but the feral felines don’t trust that. They keep their distance. It is safer that way. Too many Simians have seemed friendly, only to attack you when you were within their reach. No, stay away from the dangers…
But you, you know what that means. You remember the snugglings and the cuddles and the play. And so you approach the Abode of Plenty, sit at the entrance of that Den, and meow your heart out: “Let me in !! Feed me !! Stroke my back and make me happy again !!!” Food is suddenly offered, and OH GLORIOUS a hand gently strokes your back. You wallow in that most pleasant of sensations and you purr your little heart out. But they will not let you in, because they know you are teeming with vermin and you may carry the disease that has eliminated the Carious Tribes so many times before. After a few days they go away again, but not before stuffing your tummy with as much good grub as they can. They come and they go. But they always carry food and they always will greet you with soft voices and gentle hands.
So, every time these 2 Simians are there again, you will faithfully lie down at the entrance of their Den and wait patiently for a bit of food and a bit of friendship to come your way. Because it is the only way you know now. It is all you’ve got.
This is the story of Brass Balls, as far as The Mistress can guess what happened to him. The most frank of all feral members of the Carious Tribes, and possibly their youngest member because he showed up for the first time at the end of last Summer. He exhibits the behaviour of a cat who has known humans all of his short life, and who has possibly been thrown out of his home and his family. Clearly he misses his Simians and clearly he is distraught with having to fend for himself. But he is learning fast and has made his way already into the Carious Tribes. He teamed up with One-Eye (possibly is a member of her Grey Tribe now) and when we were at the Abode of Plenty again last week they both showed up in order to receive their due share of what we brought with us.
We must leave them time and time again, but every time we have to go back home to the House of Chaos we first make sure that they get as much calories as we can give them. Because One-Eye is so lovely.
Because Brass Balls is so lovable.
Ow… weekend already ? Gee, almost gone too. My my. Better hurry over to the Friday Ark before it’s sailed away. And when you’re about it, stop by the Carnival of the Cats hosted by Artsy Catsy, Weekend Cat Blogging done by Cats in Maryland, and the Bad Kitty Festival of Chaos held over at Mind of Mog.
PS: it started snowing today. And the kitties of the House of Chaos go.. NOT YAY !!! For some reason it eludes the Simians that the Felines abhor the white wet cold stuff…