Once upon a time in the land of Lemuria, there lived a Cat. This was no ordinary Cat. For in whatever way the stars in the heavens had aligned at the time of her birth, this particular Cat had the power to speak to animals. Not to humans, mind you, but to animals – all animals and all heavenly beings from the sun, the stars, the sea and the moon. She could hear their voices, and they hers.
Most of the time, the Cat liked to block out the noise of these voices. For what use had she to listen to all of the goings-on of the cows and the dogs and the birds and the trees. And gradually, they tired of talking to her and busied themselves with the more important business of life. Of course, if the Cat had the power to communicate with her human, that would be an entirely different matter. For there she could advise him of her particular tastes and the fine fish delicacies her palette preferred.
Like most felines of her generation, the Cat was a curious animal. Mostly she was curious about her food and when her dinner would be served. But as she grew older, her curiosity began to fade and she kept more and more to ‘her nest’ by the inclines of the fire, where she could sleep unperturbed. One particular moonlit night, the Cat was curled up, as usual by the fireside when she heard a strange voice calling to her.
‘Cat!’
The Cat stirred and looked around but no one was there.
‘CAT!’ the voice boomed again..
‘Who is it?’ she mewed.
‘It is I, the Moon. Why, look at me Cat – I am right here in the sky looking down on you.’
‘Oh it’s you,’ retorted the Cat, a little surprised as the Moon had never bothered her before. ‘Why do you call me,’ asked the Cat, ‘Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?’
‘Yes, I can see that Cat,’ replied the Moon who was waiting for a cloud to float by ‘And I’ve been watching you for a long time. Haven’t you got better things to be doing?’
‘Why indeed,’ thought the Cat to herself. For she wasn’t quite sure what the Moon did except to hang about in the sky, night after night to no practical purpose at all. To the Cat, the Moon was only useful when the mice came out to play so she could catch a glimpse of light on her scrambling prey.
‘At least the sun provides warmth and light so I can keep an eye on my dinner bowl. But you, Moon? What purpose do you serve?’ she mewed.
The Moon, who was not accustomed to being addressed in such a pert manner, fell silent for a while. And just as the Cat was settling back into her cosy slumber, the voice started up again.
‘Well, it’s interesting you say that, for there’s a great deal for me to do. What purpose do you serve, Cat?’
‘What purpose indeed,’ thought the Cat to herself although she was much too charming a creature to say so.
‘Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever had a purpose,’ retorted the Cat, ‘and if I had, I must have lost it. Now, if you’ve quite finished, I really need to catch up on…’ And with that the Cat fell promptly, asleep.
From that night onwards, the Moon became strangely attracted to this little black creature. For she could simply not understand how the Cat could have her lost her purpose. And so it was on the following night that the Moon took it upon herself to call on the Cat once again, just as she was settling down by the fire after a tasty supper of kippers and milk.
‘Cat…CAT!’ the Moon bellowed sweeping aside the stars to get a better look at his lazy company.
‘This really is too much’, thought the Cat. ‘What on earth could the Moon possibly want with me and why does she insist on calling at such inconvenient times?’
‘Cat, I have something important I want to show you to see if I might help you find your purpose.’
The Cat reluctantly stretched and sat up. For being a naturally curious animal, she thought it only polite to attend to this pale stranger.
So the Moon swept aside the stars and invited her to join her in the heavenly sky.
‘It is I who control the tides and help the sailor man find his way at night’, she began. ‘Foxes and owls would not come out at night, if it was not for me and the fairy-folk make use of my light lantern. It is I who keeps your Earth plane steady from its orbital pull. You cannot imagine how beautiful you look from space. And yet, your planet is merely that, a pale blue dot, despite all your grand notions of self importance.’
The Cat surveyed everything the Moon had shown her. Admittedly, she was intrigued. She had only heard of fairy folk but had never seen them. The stars looked friendly and playful – something twinkly to pounce upon. The sea looked to be full of tasty fish. And yet, none of this was of any practical use to the Cat so she politely complimented the Moon on his fine sense of purpose, then sweeping her tail about her eyes fell into a deep, delicious sleep.
The Moon, bemused by the Cat’s indifference retired to her spot in the night sky where she could survey the tides and keep a watchful eye on the ships as they sailed the seas. She was certainly not about to give up on helping this little feline find her purpose.
It was about this time that a great storm, the greatest Lemuria had ever seen was set to take hold of this fair land. The Moon had warned the trees who had whispered to the birds and they in turn carried the message to the animals who hastily made preparations and began retreating. Of course the humans, having no natural instinct to speak of at all, rushed ahead with their usual frantic existence – a constant talking point amongst the forest animals. However, they tolerated them all the same, as they too, they mused, had their place in the grand order of things.
The Cat was also out of sorts more than usual. She had ignored the whisperings of the forest animals and fretted about the house growing more and more sickly by the day. Tom Cat next door had been visiting her frequently and now she had the sensation of a swollen tummy and an unruly appetite that seemed to grow larger by the day. To give credit where due, her human had picked up on her poor condition and she found the tasty morsels of cheese a pleasing addition to her breakfast menu. But dine as she may, she grew restless and ignoring the Moon’s warning, ventured into the forest although the wind had picked up and the trees groaned perilously around her. As she crept, paw by paw to the heart of the forest, the mighty Oak who had stood for centuries, succumbed to the roaring wind and came crashing to the ground just as the Cat was passing.
‘Crushed’ she screamed, scrambling about beneath the Oak’s fallen arms, ‘Is this how I am to end my days? And while the birds who were no friend to the Cat tried to lift the flailing branches from her leg, they could not muster the strength to save the Cat and so fled to the Human’s house for help, chirping and signaling as they sped.
Upon reaching the farm, the birds found the human’s dog sleeping.
‘Dog, Dog!’ they chirped. ‘Come quickly. Cat is hurt. She’s in the forest under the fallen Oak tree.’ And while the Dog did not like the Cat one little bit, he put his own feelings aside and bounded to the site of the fallen Oak tree, escorted by the tweeting birds.
“Here! She’s here,’ they sang. The Dog nuzzled his nose beneath the torn branches and raised them just high enough to reveal three little creatures, snuggled together and suckling on the Cat’s torn belly.
‘Cat – wake up. You’re having kittens!’ he barked.
‘What?’ cried the Cat who had a very sore tummy as well as an aching leg.
“Look”, barked the Dog,
Seeing the spectacle for the first time, a sudden and most unfamiliar feeling swept over the Cat. A swooshy, swishy feeling that warmed her heart and made her forget her pain – if just for a moment. Could this be the feeling humans made all the fuss about? Could this feeling be….love?
Then remembering her dislike for the Dog, she threw her whiskers in the air and retorted,
‘Keep away you filthy mongrel or I’ll swipe that silly grimace from your mouth.’
‘I was only trying to help. Even though you have only ever been cruel to me’, said the dog, ‘I would never harm your little kittens. I will run back and let Master know your whereabouts. Even though there has been great damage to the house, he only cares about your safety’.
Poor Cat, now weakened by her shattered leg could only mew meekly in reply. She looked tenderly at her brood. What a proud sight they were. And how would she ever get them to safety?
By now, the wind had given way to torrential rain and the great fallen Oak provided little shelter for the Cat and her newborn. Sweeping two of the kittens under the shelter of the fallen boughs, she took the third in her mouth to embark on the perilous journey home. Through the driving rain she pressed, until at last she could see the candle lit dim of the old farmhouse.
‘Hold on little one’, she mewed limping through the door and placing the first little kitten at her astonished human’s feet. And then without pause, out the door, she pressed again.
Slower and the slower was her progress this time and each breath became more and more strained. Back to the fallen oak, she crawled, gently nosing the second kitten into her mouth, only to face back into the screaming storm and driving rain until she could make out the trail of the forest path which was by now, shrouded in darkness.
The loyal Dog trailed silently behind.
‘Cat, let me carry you. At least let me take the little one. I give you my word I will do it no harm.’
‘No,’ growled the Cat. ‘I’m their mother.’
When at last they reached the farmhouse, the Human tried to persuade the Cat to stay showing her a bowl of warm milk and a cosy, welcoming fire but resolute, she protested, crying and clawing at the door, until at last he relented to watch the shivering, limping, Cat make her way again through the torrential rain and billowing wind.
By this time, the Cat had lost a great deal of blood. As she scrambled about in the bracken, she suddenly felt a sharp pain tear through her front paw. Crying out, she collapsed into a pit of dark, torrid water. Shaking and afraid, a burst of courage and love rushed through her, ‘I must get to my kitten. I will not abandon my child.’ As she paused to gather her strength, she noticed a flock of ravens circling overhead. ‘They too, ‘ she thought sadly, ‘must feed their children’.
Meanwhile, the Moon had been surveying the scene with great distress and summoned the Moon nymphs to clear the Cat’s path and keep her safe on her final journey. And come to her aid they did – shining their moonbeams so fiercely that even the Cat’s failing eyes could find their bearing.
‘Nearly there,’ she braved, ‘Thank you Moon.’
And so at last, she came upon her last kitten, who was the smallest of the litter with fur as white as the whitest of snow.
“There you are little one. I’ve come to take you home.” Then, very carefully and resting only for a moment, the Cat placed the kitten tenderly in her mouth. Then, paw, by paw she made her way slowly towards the flickering light of the farmhouse.
With each step, pain, like sharp needles stabbed through her paw and the dark night around her grew blurry and faint. ‘It doesn’t matter what happens to me, little one’, she braved. ‘As long as you are safe.’ And even Tom Cat, who had been watching Cat from the safety of the farmhouse, ventured out to meet her, escorting her silently through the last few yards to the cheer and applause of the farm animals.
Through the back door she crawled, shivering and exhausted yet not pausing to rest until she had carefully placed the last, white kitten in his nest. Then she mewed out in pain and collapsed amongst them.
Many days passed and the Cat remained asleep.
‘She is surely at death’s door’ whispered the town Vet. ‘I can’t see her surviving. Her leg was broken in numerous places.’
Her Human had taken great pains to bottle feed the little ones, who scrambled about and spilled out of the nest in their quest for play.
On the fourth day, that mostly holy night of Christmas Eve, the human had just given the kittens their final feed, when all of a sudden, Cat stirred. Opening one eye, then two, she beheld the most beautiful sight – her kittens, her human and even the dog!.. And there was that warm, strange again – gushing like warm milk and honey through her. ‘You’re all well, you’re all alive.’ She mewed, folding her kittens to her with her long black tail. And the Human and the Dog looked on with great joy, congratulating the Cat and each other on a very happy ending.
‘Thank you,’ purred the Cat to her Human and the Dog. “Thank you for taking care of my kittens and …me.”
‘Surely this is the best gift I could have this Christmas,’ thought the Human happily to himself.
And the Moon who sat high in the sky that night to greet a very special visitor, surveyed the scene with great joy. ‘Finally’, she smiled, ‘the Cat has found her purpose.’
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