Installment 14

I figured that was it for me. I was a dead cat. But instead, he throws me into a big cage with four dogs! Then the man says something to the dogs, gets in his car, and drives off. What a relief. I started to think that maybe I’ll survive this after all.

A lotta cats have major problemos with dogs. I don’t. My mother taught us all about dogs when we were babies. She told us that you have to read a dog. She said that dogs are naturally friendly. She said that dogs have to be trained to be mean, or to attack cats. I can tell right away if a dog is gonna attack me or not. Most dogs won’t. But even a friendly dog will chase you if you run. So I only run from a dog if it’s givin’ off danger signals.

I knew I could relax with these dogs. All four of these guys were locked up for biting people, not cats. Here we were, all in the same boat, and we got along great. Two days later a truck pulled up and took ‘em away. I was sorry to see ‘em go. But it was nice to be alone.

That night, the man I had accidentally bitten came back and put three more dogs in my cage. These three were a different story. These dogs were trained killers. My hope of survival vanished like a cute little mouse down a cold, dark hole.

Two of my new cellmates were short and bulging with muscles. The third one was tall and wiry, with the biggest, whitest, sharpest teeth I ever saw.

One of the muscle-heads grinned at me while licking his lips. “Hey look fellas, the cops left us dinner. Now that was real considerate of ‘em!”

I felt nauseous. Then the tall wiry one says, “Wait just a moment please.” He walks right up to me, bends down, and looks straight at my throat. “Leave him alone,” He says. “Do you see that collar and tag he’s got on? That, my hyper-salivary friends, is known as a ‘Ratty’. The rules are exceedingly clear on this matter; it is strictly forbidden to harm any cat who’s wearing a Ratty.”

The flat-faced drooler starts growling, “I don’t give a rat’s tail if he’s wearin’ a tutu and tennis shoes, I’m gonna eat him!”

“I’m very sorry, but I shall not allow that to happen,” Says the tall dog, “Unless, perhaps you’d care to try and eat me too?” He walked over next to me, turned around to face the other two and snarled at them to reveal his suddenly beautiful teeth.

Now there are two of us facing the two of them (all right, all right, one and a half of us, jeez!).

The second muscle-dog spoke up now “He’s right Bro, we better not eat him. I think I hearda that “Ratty” thing before” He sounded very disappointed, but at least he stopped all that disgusting drooling, which had formed a huge, gaggy, slimy pool on the cement floor.

They explained about the Rat War to the first muscle-bound thug. He cooled off, even became respectful. For the rest of our time together, they were real nice dogs. They shared the food and water. That night, when it got cold, they even invited moi to huddle up for warmth. I said thanks, but no. (I will never be that cold!)

A couple days later, two men who I did not know came around. I figured they were here to take the dogs away, like before. But after a long discussion, the bigger one opens the cage and picks me up! I didn’t know what he had in mind. But hey, whatever it was, it couldn’t be too much worse that layin’ on a cement slab, eatin’ dog-food, could it? Besides, I’d stand a lot better chance of escaping once I was outta this cage.

I exchanged good-byes with my new friends, and the man put me in a nice big box and gave me some good food. He put my new box in the back of his truck. The wind felt so good; so clean, fresh and free. Things were looking up. The man drove to his house and lifted my box outta the truck. He put my box inside the garage, and opened the little door to let me out. He left and came back a minute later with some fish and water. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was, and I drank till my tongue was tired and my stomach bulged.

He took my collar off very gently, snipping it with tiny little snippers. What a big relief. He rubbed something on the sore spots. The pain almost vanished. Nobody had treated me that good since I lost my Mom almost a year ago. When I felt my purrer start up, it surprised me a little, I had forgotten I could do that purring thing! The only thing that coulda made it better was a nice lonnngggg nap. The man gave me the softest, warmest thing to sleep on, exactly my size:…BIG! So curling up, I bid the world good night.

I stayed there, resting inside the garage for a few days. Soon I began to feel like my old self again; jaunty, strong, and oh-so-handsome. I knew there was another cat living inside the house, a female. I wanted to make a good impression so I spent hours and hours washing off the aromas of my recent adventure. After a few more days, the man opened the door and let her into my garage. She was so cute. All white with a little black dot on her head. It was a shame I was gonna have to show her who’s boss.

I don’t wanna bore you with a lotta details about how I accomplished it, let it suffice to say that the other cat in this house harbors no delusions whatsoever about who’s in charge, none, zero, zilch.

Moving on to more pleasant subjects: One morning last week, I was baking nicely in a windowsill when a couple of hoodlums I used to run around with stopped by. It was Bowlegged-Bob and his slack-jawed brother, Booster. They were teasin’ me big-time about my new indoor lifestyle.

“Hey Booster! Look at the hairy potato!”

“I see it, Bowlegged Bob. Wait, isn’t that…no it couldn’t be.”

“I think it is, Booster! Better take a good look, next time you see him, he’ll weigh seventy-three pounds. And look how pretty he is, all clean and shiny!"

I faked a yawn to show how much I was ignoring them. Then I heard a familiar voice. “What’s up fellas,? There a problem here?” It was Baby Gino. Booster looked at the ground and mumbled as he backed away, “Oh, hi Gino. We were just in the neighborhood. We stopped to say hello to our friend there.” He pointed his nose at me. “Well, we better be in the wind, heard about a bunch a’ lizards livin’ over at Raccoon Ridge. Thought we’d take a looksee.”

“Yeah, that sounds real exciting fellas, have a blast.” Gino sarcasticized them.

hen they had left, Baby Gino Told me, “Don’t listen to those fools Wahhhrom, you’re exactly where you’re supposed be, stay with Ra-oula and the human, you have a family now”.

I didn’t get it, this wasn’t my family, and I didn’t intend to stick around here forever. I heard Lupe make a “Huff” sound behind me and looked over my shoulder. Her brilliant blue eyes gave away nothing, just her usual smug mug.

“I don’t understand, Gino,” I said. “It’s been real nice here, but I’m an outdoor cat. I’m just hangin' out here for a while. There are too many new adventures out there.”

“Patience, my young friend” Gino said. “You have so many things to learn. Things you’ll never know as an outside-cat.”

“Wahhrom?” It was Lupe. “We love you, Wahhrom. A lifetime of your adventures aren’t worth one minute of love. Moreover, if you are patient, you will soon experience the adventures of a million lifetimes. Every adventure of every cat that ever lived will be yours.”

I wasn’t havin’ it. “Listen my friends, I appreciate the sentiment, but exploring is in my blood. I couldn’t give it up even if I wanted to, which I don’t. Sure it’s got its down-side. I didn’t like jail very much, and sometimes things do get rough out there. But I have a lot of places still to see. There are still new adventures I need to have. Maybe I’ll come back here someday when I’m older. I‘m very fond Clayton and Lupe. It’s tempting, but I’ll be unhappy if I stay here too long.”

“Wahhrom?” Someone else was now calling to me. At first I thought it was Lupe again. I looked back at her. She shook her head, nope, it wasn’t her.

“Gino, did you hear something just now?” I asked him. He didn’t answer, he just looked at me with sad eyes.

“Wahhrom?” There it was again. I was getting spooked.

“Who is that? What do you want? I demanded.

“It’s me, your Grandpa Sidewinder, Wahhrom. I must have a word with you.”

“It’s a trick, a game of some kind,” I thought. I ran all around the house determined to find the source of that voice. But it was coming from inside of me.

“It’s not a trick, Wahhrom. It’s really me. If you’ll listen for a moment, I promise to leave you alone. The decision to stay or go will always be yours. It has always been so for our kind. No one can force us to do anything. All I ask is for a little of your trust. The other Elders and I are preparing a tremendous gift for you, Wahhrom. It is the complete memory of our kind. Everything that has ever been seen, or done, or learned by every cat that ever lived will be yours, but it requires a quiet peaceful life if you are to hear it. Then, once you’ve received The Memory, you will still be free to choose to return to your old life. I give you my solemn word.”

They had me. How in the great furry world could I have refused him? He was the one cat, the only cat in all furry creation that could have convinced me. “Ok, I will wait. Grandpa, how long will it be?”

“I can’t say precisely, my Kitten. Just be patient. And try to be good...please? We are working on it. Meanwhile, stick close to Ra-oula. Take care of her and Clayton. They have many, many friends here among the elders. And Wahhrom?”

“What is it, Grandpa?”

“I’m proud of you, little one. We all are.”

THE END

This is the final installment of Barbwire Cats. If you missed any of the story, or want a copy for yourself (from the manuscript we've printed here, copied and saved bit by bit to your computer) the story started in our July 3, 2006 issue. You can find all the excerpts in our archives.