Cats were the gangsters of the animal world, living outside the law and often dying there. There were a great many of them who never grew old by the fire.
― Stephen King Pet Sematary
Some strive for a life of luxury, some are born to it, others have it thrust upon them.
Then there is the rest of us.
It's not easy on the street. Life is cold, hard, and short when you're on your own. If you were born with two feet or four, you always have one in the grave.Â
Poisoned bait spelled the end for a scrawny tabby cat. She never had a warm bed, or a name. Rat poison tore through her guts, taking her and a belly full of kittens with it. Â
No one noticed.
She yawned and stretched: the aches, the fever, the pain were all gone. Her bony frame was replaced with sleek fur and rippling muscle. The broken bend of her tail, the prize for escaping a dog trap, lengthened and twitched in the warm breeze.Â
For the first time in her life, the world looked friendly and inviting. There were no cars to run her down. The ground was soft and yielding underfoot. Noiselessly, she stalked an unsuspecting bird. Closer and closer she crept. The bird, scratching at a patch of ground, never moved as the cat landed landed on it. A cloud of feathers and blood wafted into the air.Â
The cat stood over the body. To her amazement, the broken skin mended, the feathers regrew. The bird hopped back up on its feet, blinked twice, and flew away.
This was a strange place.
There was food of all sorts, but she was never hungry. She was never cold. She could nap in the sun, undisturbed. Slowly, she grew accustomed to this new existence.Â
She could not bring herself to enjoy it.
She saw her babies grow and thrive. Never knowing hardship, they embraced their bliss.Â
Their mamma grew restless in paradise.Â
She stalked through the parks and gardens: mice, squirrels, and other small creatures resurrecting in her murderous wake.Â
One morning, she saw a human in her domain.
Seated on the park bench, he was stroking a chipmunk behind the ear, speaking softly to it. He gently placed it on the ground at his feet, and it bounded away. Â
He moved slowly, and with great care, as the cat had seen some of the humans do in her other life. He turned and looked directly at her.
"Hello, little one. I was wondering when you would show up." He smiled and placed a tidbit on the other side of the bench. The man sat, waited, while the little tabby slowly made her way towards him. Experience made her wary, but curiosity drove her on. After a long while, she found herself sitting primly on the bench, sniffing the treat, but keeping just out of arm's reach of the human.
The man chuckled. "It's all right, little one. I know you've had a hard time, yes?" She had one ear cocked towards him as she carefully took the treat into her mouth. "You're not the first," he continued. "It's hard to let your guard down, even here." He slowly extended his arm. She started to move away, then found herself responding to his murmuring voice. Eventually, he was able to touch his finger to the side of her cheek and softly caress it. She came no closer, but let him stroke the top of her head as he spoke.
As she finished her snack, he pulled himself up from the bench. Stretching his legs before him, he turned back to the cat on the bench. "Follow me, little one. I have something to show you." The man started down a path between the trees, and the tabby, having finished bathing, jumped down and followed him at a short distance.Â
The forest became more dense and dark. The path led to a small doorway in the side of a large rock. "This is the way back, little one," the man explained. "This is where you came from. They cannot hurt you, but it will be as you remember it. You may go there and stay as long as you like. When you are ready, come back to us."Â
The man opened the door, and after a few minutes, the tabby ran back to the gray city streets she knew in life. The dirty snow piled along the buildings, but for her, the ground was still soft and the air was still warm.
And she was at peace.