Paw-litics of Nature: Part III

         “Get up, get up, get up…” the wind seems to say as it creeps through an opening under the porch of an abandoned house where Blue lay sleeping.

Blue, wounded and exhausted, has fallen into a deep torpor.  As we move in for a close-up, we see the rapid eye movement beneath his furry lids.  

           Dear Reader, Blue is probably dreaming, but with our remote, Pinkie and I can see what is really going on as we view the scene from our Bay Window as if watching it from a ginormous flat screen television:

       Funny Face, Blue’s mother is walking slowly towards him from the south as Big Red advances from the north and Clyde, wearing a backpack, enters from the west, accompanied by Lay-a-dee.  Funny Face reaches Blue first and gently nudges him, but he doesn’t budge.  The mud caked to Blues’ fur is whispering to her.  Funny Face bends her head to listen to the collective speech of the mud, which informs her of what has transpired within the last few hours.

Big Red approaches Blue and politely greets Funny Face.   “That’s a wicked state of affairs,” he finally says, assessing Blue.

           “I’m going back home to get the carrier to transport Blue and I’ll make an appointment for him at the cat wash station near the County Cat Hospital,” Clyde says, after evaluating Blue’s condition. “They may as well stitch his ear back on”.   Blue’s ear, though ripped, was still intact, hanging by a thread.   Lay-a-dee bites at the straps of the backpack that Clyde is wearing, until it opens, releasing a thermos.  Clyde morphs into a human and pours a cup of hot broth from the thermos that he puts beside Blue.  “I’ll be back,” he tells everyone, and then proceeds to come home.

         Funny Face is soon joined by a clowder of cats, all friends.  Lay-a-dee, morphing into human form, runs after Clyde.  Funny Face nudges Blue until he begins to stir. He moans and groans.  His eyes are stuck together with dried mud, blood, sleep fluid, and tears and he struggles to open them.  He also finds it hard to breathe through his nostrils that are filled with dried mud.  His bruised, swollen mouth stings in pain from where the mud and salty swamp water has seeped into his open wounds.  He winces when his mother tries to wipe his face.   She does this in order for him to sip some hot broth, but he cries out in anguish. 

          “I know it hurts,” she tells him, “but you need to keep up your strength so you can heal faster”.  Her words are reassuring.  Blue feels the weight of his limp, mud-caked body and can barely lift his head as he attempts to oblige his mother in taking a sip of the broth.  But, the taste of the swamp water and mud, mixed in with his own blood, masks any trace of meat flavor and is so distasteful, he spits it out in disgust.  

“I want to go home now,” Blue finally says.

“Go home?” asks Funny Face. 

“Yes, HOME!” Blue cries emphatically.

“But, you are home, my son”.  His mother tells him.

“I mean my other home, with my other mother, where I can curl up in the sun by the window and take a long nap!”

“My dear son, you have slept long enough. It’s time for you to wake up.”

“I don’t understand,” protested Blue, looking confused and scared.

Big Red confronts Blue.  “Blue, if you go back to your human masters in your comfortable, fake world, you will never know what you really are and you will always be a known as a shameless, pathetic coward that ran from adversity and challenge”.

Funny Face adds, “Living with the Huns has made you weak and pitiful.  You are not the same son I left struggling on the lawn in the Hun’s backyard that they rescued as a kitten”.

“How will you survive if something happens to your Masters?” asks one of the elder felines.

“You and your friends will protect me,” Blue answers.

A thunderous rumbling among the cats is heard as they exchange opinions on the issue at hand.  Big Red throws his hands in the air to quiet the clowder.

His voice cuts through the silence. “Maybe she can, maybe she can’t…” Big Red addresses Blue.  “Is that what you really want or need— to hide behind your mother’s tail, when you can and should face your fears and defend yourself?  What you need Blue, is something every cat should have, besides nine lives.  And that is COURAGE and PRIDE.”

Blue asks, “Where can I get this courage and pride?”

“Courage and Pride are attributes that most cats already possess.  You just need to connect more with your cat intuitiveness and instincts for survival. You need to condition your mind and body Blue.” Big Red taps Blue on the temple for emphasis.

“Must I?” Blue whines.

“Tsk, tsk. Tsk…,” is the sound of disapproval the other cats make in unison in reference to Blue’s response.

“Are you not a Russian Blue?” asks Big Red.

“I thought I was…”

“Russian Blues are Archangel Blues.  They are regal and strong and don’t back down from a fight, even if there be a smidgen of Russian Blue running through your veins, that should be enough to shield you, especially against any threat from a punk loser like Rage and his band of hoodlums!”

“Rage and his gang been terrorizing our colony for years,” states an elder cat. He picks on the most vulnerable—kindles of kittens and senior colonies”.

“That doesn’t say much for me,” says Blue, embarrassed.

“Well, you are an in-door cat, newly oriented to the outdoor world, so what can you expect?” says one of the elder cats.

“What can I do? How can I defend myself against Rage and his gang? He will probably kill me if he catches me on his turf again.”

“Not if I train you to fight him” says Big Red.  “I have fought every one of them, and I know their strengths and their weaknesses.  But, you will need to fight them all, one by one and it must be a public event, so everyone can witness you displaying courage and pride as a benchmark.”

“Will you do it?” Funny Face asks Blue. “Rage and his gang not only killed many kittens and seniors, he killed your father.

“What?” Blue feels a deep pain in his heart.  “How did it happen?”

“Your father’s leg was caught in a rabbit trap and his leg was so severely damaged, he could not walk let alone run. Rage and his gang had been in a turf war with your father and his colony for the boardwalk, which included the swamp area, for years.  As your father was alone at the time, Rage and his thugs seized the opportunity unfettered, to kill him.

 “What a coward.” Blue sighs.

“Yes, something you can overcome with my guidance” promises Big Red.

Clyde returns with Lay-a-dee. They have the carrier to transport Blue to the groomers to get bathed and then the veterinarian to have his ear repaired.  Clyde puts Blue, who is reluctant, into the carrier and secures the latch.

“Let’s get you cleaned and stitched!”

“You’ll be as good as new in no time,” says Lay-a-dee, smiling sympathetically.

Clyde places the carrier on the ground so Big Red and Funny Face can say their goodbyes.  Meanwhile, He and Lay-a-dee take turns petting all of the other cats.

“Enjoy your holiday festivities Blue, my friend. But, when the last crumb of Christmas pudding is gone, don’t forget to begin your training with me.  Do it for your father’s honor.”

Funny Face places her paw warmly on Blue’s. 

“Do you have any last words of advice for me Mother?”

“In reference to Rage,” she says gently.  “Go West Virginia back-woods-hood-cat on his furry butt.  And, don’t forget who you are.  We will meet again soon, my son”.

Clyde picks up the carrier and he and Laya-dee walk towards the house.

                                  Our Story concludes next week....

Warm Wishes for a Happy Holiday Dear Readers and don’t forget to click on the “Dear Tabby” tab right near the header of this blog.