Holding the Gaze of Each One

Spuds hunted by night and slept by day. She moved every few days, eventually coming to the city where she was able to augment hunting with cast-off food in garbage bins.

Spuds came across a band of other cats in a city park and tried to live with them, but they were as prone to fighting as they were to grooming each other. She left and eventually made her home in a partially crushed box in a trash pile on a quiet side street. It was often bitter cold, but there were plenty of mice to hunt. Water was the issue. She learned to drink to excess when it rained and to withstand thirst when it did not. In the coldest weather, the water froze, and Spuds went without water for days. It was difficult not to crave it and sleep was her only escape, but sleep was never deep and sound. Part of her mind remained alert for danger.

By late winter, Spuds’ belly had grown. One morning she birthed four tiny kittens, three orange, and the smallest a pale ginger. These little creatures evoked more love in Spuds than she’d ever felt, even beyond that she felt for the old man.

The need for food increased and so she hunted more. Each time she left her kittens she communicated to them soundlessly through pictures in her mind: do not move, do not mew. She held the gaze of each of them in turn before leaving.

As the kittens grew, Spuds couldn’t keep them sequestered, and they needed to be taught to hunt. They wandered with her on some nights through the streets and alleys searching for food. Twice she had to fight dogs to keep her kittens safe. Once the ginger-colored kitten barely escaped the wheels of a car.

Spuds sensed the time was near when the kittens would wander off to start their own lives. At dawn after a night’s hunt, when they settled down to sleep, Spuds sent them images of the life she once had, of the life she hoped they would find: a fireplace, kind hands setting down bowls of food and water, a soft place to sleep, and safety, safety, safety.

During one of her solo nighttime wanderings, Spuds came upon a building from which came a chorus of meows and barks. Spuds listened. In the varied calls there was mostly complaining and questioning.

Over the next two days she ventured out during the daytime to the building, hid in the shrubbery and watched. A van came and went, from which emerged a large man stuffed into a uniform. His face was always serious. The dogs he brought in were often skinny and haunted looking. The cats he brought in were yowling and flattened to the bottom of their carrying cases. Other people came and went, some teary-eyed and bringing animals in, some bringing animals out and chattering to the bewildered-looking cat or dog.

Spuds gathered her brood over a feast of freshly caught mice. The kittens finished their meal and Spuds crunched through the remains of mouse bones. After they had washed their faces, cleaned their whiskers, and were content, Spuds sent them images of her plan. They paid attention, watching her intently, and then they slept together one final time. Spuds awoke once and looked at her sleeping kittens, memorizing their shapes and the way their breathing moved their bodies gently.

When the moon was high, Spuds nudged the kittens awake. They yawned, stretched, and trailed after her through the streets to the place of meows and barks. Spuds settled them beneath a shrub by the front door and waited. As the sun rose, Spuds licked their faces and looked into their eyes, conveying love. When each kitten held her gaze and blinked slowly, Spuds moved her focus to the next kitten.

People started coming to the building, their purposeful footfalls clicking on the pavement. Spuds saw the man in the uniform coming up the walk. She nudged the ginger-colored kitten out from under the shrub. The kitten meowed. Spuds nudged the other kittens and they followed their sister.

The uniformed man looked down at the kittens and sighed. He scooped up all four of them in his arms at once and then saw Spuds. He called to a woman coming up the walk behind him. She reached beneath the bush toward Spuds, but Spuds panicked and dashed away. The woman ran after her, but Spuds was faster. Before turning the corner, Spuds looked back toward her kittens, watching the last stubby orange tail disappear through the door.

to be continued

© 2023 Carolyn Cott