I Died And Turned Into A Cat - Chapter 5 - To Survive As A Cat (3)
Ch. 5 To Survive As A Cat (3)
“Grarr.” (Mmmm.)
“Nice girl, pretty girl.”
Pretty girl…pretty…
I felt embarrassed even though he was talking about the vessel I resided in, not myself. Yet that sweet, honeyed voice echoed in my ears. Never had I been praised so plainly by the opposite sex, and if I were human, my face would have glowed a bright red.
Chalkag, chalkag.
The man crouched in front of the bench to capture more pictures of my uniquely lustrous fur, a blend of purple, blue, and black in the moonlight. I hated being photographed when I was human, but I found that I didn’t mind it as much now. I found this impromptu photograph session and this man’s attention to be strangely fun.
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After snapping several photographs, he glanced up at the sky and stood up. I went up on all four paws and looked at him.
“Yaong?” (You’re going?)
“See you again, kitty.”
He petted my ears and turned away to leave the rooftop. For a moment I stared at his retreating back, then bounded to follow after him. The rooftop door clicked shut, however, and I couldn’t think of a way to open it.
This was an unexpected problem. I was told that I could become a human, but I never heard how. Something like a spell…? I placed my front legs on the door, but the door handle was too high for me to reach.
“Nyang?” (How do I get out?)
I could extend my claws when I flexed my muscles, and I scratched the door for a few desperate minutes. It was of no use.
I looked around, but there was nothing to climb. Despondent, I left the rooftop door for now and concentrated on searching around the garden for a way out. It was a beautiful space, but it felt extremely artificial.
I poked around and crawled under some bushes, and to my enormous relief, I discovered another slightly smaller white door opposite where the man left. It said “Staff Only” and was slightly ajar.
I entered through the open door. My movements were surprisingly noiseless, despite the fact that I wasn’t used to moving on all fours yet and I still felt a little clumsy. Fortunately, I quickly adapted to this agile body, and as an animal, plodding down a long flight of stairs was no different from a person climbing a wall their own height.
“Nyanya?” (Thirty-seven?)
I must have descended only half a level so far. How long would it take me to go thirty-seven floors down? There might be an elevator somewhere, but I was so lost that I couldn’t figure out how to get on one with this cat’s body. I’d rather climb Mount Everest!
The question was how to get out of this building or apartment without taking an elevator. How would I open the heavy emergency exit? What else could I do?
I was in such a hurry to meet my mom that I never thought about how I would get to her. I didn’t even know where I was. Could I take a subway? If I found a road I was familiar with, would I walk all the way? That alone could take days…
Then if I was caught, I could be taken to a shelter for stray animals. Images of what could happen rushed through my mind. Although I never raised animals, I knew the reality when stray cats wandered around and were caught by humans. If they were lucky, they would be neutered and and the tip of an ear would be cut off to mark them. I once heard a passionate discussion about it from a friend, who created flyers and distributed it for free. I even drew the illustrations for it.
‘There’s something called TNR—Trap Neuter Return. Organizations trap free-roaming cats, neuter them, and return them to the street. It’s part of a plan to reduce the cat population. Cats that undergo the surgery do not reproduce, so they will not cry with the sound of a cat in heat.’
‘Oh, like a baby crying?’
‘Yes, people hate the sound very much. Surgery prevents population growth and reduces the frequency of crying. Cats that have undergone surgery have a part of their ear cut off, and I believe this is the best harmony a person can offer to the cat.’
‘Who pays for the surgery? Volunteers?’
‘Yes, and the city pays as well. But in many cities, it is considered too expensive. Do you know what happens to cats that are caught by people in those areas?’
‘No.’
‘Most of them are euthanized. It’s cheaper than surgery. The more you think about it, the more you see how cruel human beings are. They don’t like cats coming up to them for food, but they don’t like cats digging through garbage either. Cats have precious lives, but there are people that don’t think that way.’
The friend had five cats and explained until they were red in the face how hard they had to work to protect their pets. There were sick people out there that hated cats. I thought of the abuse people inflicted on those poor innocent animals, and gave a full body shiver. It was better to be a cat a hundred times over than to have my human soul die, but I do not want to die like that, or have my ear cut off. Of course, I hated euthanasia.
As I thought of the animals that wandered around the city without owners, I turned around and headed for the rooftop.
Life as a cat never seemed easy.