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WINNING CAT STORY
Natasha is my cat. She has only three
legs following an accident which made the local vet
very wealthy. She is of royal Burmese descent. She is
a super cat. With her I can talk. That’s obvious,
we have been together for so many years. Her eyes are
very clear, a greenish yellow. Her fur is soft and silvery,
pale grey.
She is very well trained, very clean;
she always uses her private toilet. Every morning, at
five, she jumps onto my pillow. She licks my forehead
several times. Her tongue is a coarse sand paper.
I get the message. I have to get
up and prepare the coffee.
I stumble towards the kitchen. Natasha jumps on the
bench, she always sits at the same spot. She watches
me while I prepare coffee: I boil the water, put some
coffee in the filter, pour some boiling water on the
coffee, having made holes in the coffee so that it will
filter faster. I know Natasha disapproves of that practice
but she understands and won’t say anything to
anyone. Then I pour the coffee in the bowls and add
some milk and sugar. The sun is rising. Natasha is looking
at the tiny translucent frog which is on the jar of
sugar. Every now and then, she lays her paw on the jar,
just next to the little frog, never on her. She knows
it is forbidden to touch the little frog which is no
bigger than a nail. Natasha respects all my friends…
and the little frog is my friend.
So every morning, for years, it has
been the same ritual: Natasha wakes me up, I stumble,
she jumps on the bench, I prepare coffee, I bring the
bowl of hot coffee to Anne who is still asleep and Natasha
disappears, I suppose to deal with her own three legged
business.
Life continued that way, very simply.
And then, one day…
I woke up in a bad mood. Following a nightmare, perhaps.
My bad temper was immediately obvious. The little frog
jumped to hide behind the sink. I started to grumble
because the coffee was not where it was supposed to
be. There was no sugar left. It took ages for the water
to boil and Natasha was watching with her clear eyes,
ironical. So I took it out on her!
Rotten cat, I muttered, it’s not hygienic to be
on that bench, it’s against all decent rules!
Go away! And I pushed her down. It had released my anger
but deep down, I felt bad about it. That morning, no
doubt, I prepared coffee in very hygienic conditions!
When I was about to leave for work,
with horror I noticed some faeces on the carpet in front
of the door. I was amazed. It can’t be the dog.
Natasha? For years she has always used her tray! Perhaps,
she was sick. Would it be the neighbour’s cat?
I cleaned without a word and went to work.
Next morning, I did not feel any
sand paper waking me up. Natasha did not come and I
prepared coffee, all alone. She was grooming herself
in a corner of the lounge, ignoring me. Since I was
still cross from the day before, the little frog did
not come either and Natasha continued to behave as though
I was not there.
When I was about to leave I noticed
that once more the carpet opposite the door was soiled.
I was shocked. Now I knew. It was Natasha and obviously
an act of defiance.
That time I understood the message.
I took Natasha in my arms and apologised for my passed
errors.
I placed her back on the bench, at her usual spot. Since
she is nice, she forgave me straight away and started
to purr, then she licked my hand with her raspy tongue.
I understood that the crisis was over and life was going
to resume as before.
And the little frog, you may ask?
Well, she is also at her usual spot each morning. She
also understood that like was normal again, just like
always…
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