uhuh
on my way home today, i cat streaked past me. not a cat, more of a kitten really, and this i realised when i picked it up and realised that it could almost fit comfortably onto my palm. the kitten was black with a white belly and like most other kittens, very adorable. it mewed and rolled over, belly up and i couldnt fight this great urge to bring it home. once, we had a kitten of our own too. it was the most wily rascal, but it was much loved by everyone. it did however, have a knack of being too naughty and this didnt go too well with my elder brother who decided one day to lock Streak the kitten outside the house for one night after his misdemeanour (probably pooing under the bed again). streak had been locked outside before of course, and he would be let in the following morning looking rather remorseful in a feline way. this once however, streak never came back. the little kitty, probably now either a big tom cat or dead, is still at large.
this little kitten i picked up this morning reminded me of streak, or rather, the feeling of having a pet to run around in the house and to play with when one gets bored with the rest that life has to offer. i stepped into the lift intending to bring it home. the kittens ears perked up as the lift beeped shut. it looked alarmed. suddenly it wasnt playfully rolling about in my hands anymore. as the lift rose to the next floor i looked outside and saw another cat, looking into the lift and mewing. i realised then that it was probably the kittens mother and that by making that selfish decision to bring it home, i was tearing apart mother and child.
we always talk about animals not being able to feel what humans do but this once, i felt true alarm in the mews of the kitten and genuine sadness in the eyes of its mother. i felt the pain of seperation, as impossible and ridiculous as it sounds, of these two animals. i wondered to myself, if cats can feel pain and understand loss, why cant humans? i must have looked strange cradling the kitten at the lift landing of the third floor, reflecting on the mother's cries. the kitten in my hands grew more anxious, scratching away at whatever it could get its paws on.
disentangling its claws from my shirt, i sent the kitten back down.
god spoke 11:19 PM
this little kitten i picked up this morning reminded me of streak, or rather, the feeling of having a pet to run around in the house and to play with when one gets bored with the rest that life has to offer. i stepped into the lift intending to bring it home. the kittens ears perked up as the lift beeped shut. it looked alarmed. suddenly it wasnt playfully rolling about in my hands anymore. as the lift rose to the next floor i looked outside and saw another cat, looking into the lift and mewing. i realised then that it was probably the kittens mother and that by making that selfish decision to bring it home, i was tearing apart mother and child.
we always talk about animals not being able to feel what humans do but this once, i felt true alarm in the mews of the kitten and genuine sadness in the eyes of its mother. i felt the pain of seperation, as impossible and ridiculous as it sounds, of these two animals. i wondered to myself, if cats can feel pain and understand loss, why cant humans? i must have looked strange cradling the kitten at the lift landing of the third floor, reflecting on the mother's cries. the kitten in my hands grew more anxious, scratching away at whatever it could get its paws on.
disentangling its claws from my shirt, i sent the kitten back down.
god spoke 11:19 PM
