Charlie The Kitten Who Saved A Life

CHAPTER TWELVE

Yes, my friends, you’re right in thinking I was becoming used to the feral cats by now. After living with them like that, I can tell you I actually have a lot of sympathy for them. They’ve got a terrible reputation, and it’s true they can be very aggressive. I’ve got the scars to prove it! But it’s understandable. They’ve got tough lives, and after all, they didn’t choose to be born into those circumstances. I understand now why they hang around in gangs, too. On their own, they’d be prey to all sorts of dangers. They need each other for protection. It’s all very well for domestic cats like us to say we enjoy our own company. We can pick and choose which cats we want to spend time with, and who’s allowed into our territory, or we can be completely solitary if we want to. We’ve got humans to protect us and we can choose to stay inside our nice warm homes whenever we like. I found myself wishing I could do more to help those cats, but to be honest, I don’t think they’d have been able to adapt to a life like ours.

For one thing, none of them had ever heard about going to the vet for that operation. They looked absolutely horrified when I told them I’d had it.

‘I thought you said your humans were kind!’ Black said.

‘They are. I know it seems like a cruel thing to do, but honestly, it’s just like my friend Oliver explained to me when I was a little kitten: what you’ve never had, you never miss.’

‘Well, I’m as sure as a dog’s backside that I’d miss it,’ Big said. ‘We all would! Apart from the fresh fish, it’s the only thing that makes our lives worth living.’

I thought about this for a while. There were so many things that made my life worth living when I was at home in Little Broomford, I felt almost guilty about it, not to say even more homesick.

‘We have humans to love us,’ I tried to explain. ‘We sit on their laps and get stroked and cuddled. It makes up for not mating.’

‘You must be joking,’ Stinky said. ‘That sounds awful. I’m surprised you put up with it.’

‘And it can’t possibly compare with a quick session with Blotchy Face when she’s on heat,’ Black put in.

‘Yeah, she’d soon make you forget about your humans, Charlie!’ said Tail-less.

I felt sorry for Blotchy Face, whoever she was. She must have spent her whole life being pregnant and having loads of kittens.

As the boys continued to discuss their mating rituals, I distanced myself from the conversation. I couldn’t help thinking about my sisters back at home. I was glad to remember most of you females have been spayed.

‘I was neutered before I was old enough to want to mate with anyone,’ I tried to explain to the boys when their banter had finally died down. ‘Our humans get us done because they want to take care of us. They don’t want our females to have lots of kittens who might not be looked after by anyone.’

‘Our females look after their own kittens,’ Black retorted. ‘Well, for a few weeks, anyway, till they can fend for themselves.’

And then they just end up living rough, like you, I wanted to say. But I knew it was no use. They’d never understand. The gulf between our lifestyles was too vast.

But the one thing they envied, once they were actually convinced I wasn’t faking, was my ability to understand Human. That same day, I proved my worth to them by translating a very interesting conversation that was going on outside the little café near our yard. Two females were sitting together at a table with cups in their paws, talking earnestly about seagulls.

‘Damn things are a real nuisance,’ one of them said, pointing out a couple of gulls circling above. ‘Ever since a few people were attacked, it’s been putting off holidaymakers from coming here.’

‘I know. Business is going down the pan for the beach cafés and kiosks. Nobody wants to risk eating in the open air.’

I remembered how we were told the same thing by the Annie female who owned our holiday cottage. And because I still felt cross about Caroline having her finger bitten, I listened closely to the women now.

‘It’s the fault of people who leave their food rubbish lying around,’ the first one said. ‘I’m glad the council’s putting up new notices, warning people about dropping litter and threatening them with fines. It’s about time they clamped down on it.’

‘Yes, and on the people who feed the gulls, too! Some holidaymakers think they’re being kind, until they get swooped on and pecked. The gulls should be left to feed themselves with their natural food.’

‘There are signs up now about that too,’ said the other woman. ‘Please Do Not Feed the Gulls. They are Becoming a Nuisance. I just hope it works, otherwise Mudditon is never going to recover from this year’s slump in bookings.’ She paused, and I suddenly realised she was looking straight at me. I’d been so interested in what they were saying, I’d poked my head a little way out of the hiding place behind the fence where I’d been resting with the gang. ‘Look at that little cat watching us,’ she said, nudging her companion. ‘Haven’t seen him around here before.’

‘No. I suppose he’s one of the ferals, but he doesn’t seem as nervous as most of them, does he, Jean? Hello, puss!’

I shrank back behind the fence. Big was growling at me.

‘Stay out of sight, Charlie, for catnip’s sake! I keep telling you – you might like humans, but they don’t like us!’

‘Sorry. I’m trying to listen to what they’re saying. It’s interesting. I’ll tell you in a minute.’

‘Well, I know some people think they’re a nuisance,’ the first woman went on, ‘but the feral cats do have their uses.’

‘Do they? I can’t think what, although I do feel sorry for them.’

‘Well, there was a bit in the local paper this week about how they prowl around at night, foraging for food in the streets and around the bins. They’re actually keeping down the amount of food waste, Shirley. I’d sooner the wild cats ate the leftovers people throw away, than the seagulls, and hopefully in the end they’ll give up, if there isn’t enough food lying around for them, and they’ll go back to eating their natural diet.’

‘Yes, that’s true, I suppose. And of course, the cats keep down the numbers of rats and mice, too. It’s a shame they can’t catch the odd seagull! Or at least chase them away. Then we’d really have cause to be grateful to them.’

‘Yes, and perhaps the council would stop threatening to exterminate the poor things. They should realise they’re actually performing a public service!’

Their conversation turned to something less interesting then, so I turned back to the other cats and related what I’d overheard.

‘She actually said we perform a public service?’ Black meowed in surprise.

‘I thought all the humans hated us,’ said Tail-less.

‘Well, it seems like some of them, at least, realise that you’re helping to keep the seagulls away by getting to the food waste before they do,’ I said. ‘Of course, if you could catch seagulls, or chase them off, you’d make yourselves really popular, but that’s not going to happen, is it.’

There was a silence.

‘You’re surely not going to tell me you can catch seagulls?’ I said in disbelief. ‘They’re huge! And scary!’

‘Sadly, that’s something even we wouldn’t attempt,’ Big said. ‘But chasing them away? We haven’t tried that yet. What do you think, boys? Might be a bit of fun!’

‘Are you mad?’ I said. ‘They’ve got those massive great beaks. They’ll turn on you and take a bite out of your faces!’

‘Not if we all charge at them together,’ Stinky said. ‘We’re quite a force, when we work as a team, Charlie.’

‘I know,’ I said, giving my wounded paw a little lick. ‘Tell me about it. But seagulls? Really?’

‘Worth a try, isn’t it?’ Black said. ‘If it means the humans around here would leave us alone and stop throwing things at us.’

‘Right, that’s settled,’ said Big. ‘We’ll get up a bit earlier than usual tomorrow, boys, and see what we can do. You can watch, Charlie. Don’t get me wrong, I know you’re a lot tougher than you look, after the way you came back for me the other day. But you’re still injured. You might be able to help when that leg heals up, but meanwhile just watch and learn.’

Despite my constant worries about finding Caroline and my futile attempts to find the holiday cottage, I must admit I fell asleep that night feeling ever so slightly proud of myself. I was learning to scavenge. I was learning to steal fish. I was going to learn to chase seagulls. I was tough, I was brave – I was surviving. For a minute I’d almost forgotten I didn’t want to become like the ferals.

Over the next couple of days, between continuing the search for my holiday home and practising chasing seagulls, our little gang was kept busy. To begin with, they only chased one solitary gull at a time, picking them when they were engrossed in feeding on something dropped on the pavement, or strutting towards humans eating on the beach. It was satisfying to see the look of alarm in their beady eyes as they took off, shouting at us crossly. Gradually they progressed to chasing off three or four at a time, and by then I was so caught up in the excitement, I couldn’t resist joining in. The five of us would rush them at once, and so far we’d escaped any injuries so we were beginning to feel invincible. Inevitably, though, there came the time when, occupied with chasing off two fat gulls coming in to land on the beach, we didn’t notice one of their friends running up behind us. Flapping his huge wings, he forced poor Stinky to the ground and began pecking him viciously.

‘Get off me!’ he screamed, trying in vain to fight back with his claws and teeth.

Within seconds the rest of us were rushing at the gull, who gave one disgusted ‘Caw’ and took off to follow his friends.

‘Are you OK, Stinky?’ I asked. I was secretly pretty pleased with myself for joining in with his rescue without a second thought for my own safety, despite my injured leg. I was becoming braver and more heroic by the day!

‘Just a few scratches,’ he said, getting to his paws.

But after we’d all calmed down, I noticed him wiping blood from his head and licking a sore area of his flank where the fur had been pulled out.

‘I’ll kill that seagull for you if he comes near us again,’ I told him.

‘Nice thought, Charlie, boy,’ he said. ‘But it’d take more than one of you.’

If nothing else, the incident had reminded us all about the wisdom of keeping very close together.

Normally we’d make ourselves scarce as soon as we’d got rid of the gulls, before any humans on the beach could pay too much attention to us, as the other boys still had an instinctive distrust of them. But on a couple of occasions, as we darted back out of sight behind a rocky outcrop where we could lie in wait, there was a burst of noise from various humans who’d been watching us.

‘What’s that?’ Tail-less asked nervously the first time it happened.

‘They’re cheering,’ I said. ‘And clapping – banging their front paws together. They do it when they’re pleased.’

‘Really?’ said Big. ‘I thought they sounded fierce.’

‘No. They’re telling us we did a good job.’ I looked around at the others. ‘See? It’s just as we hoped. The humans are on our side when it comes to chasing the seagulls away from their picnics.’

This seemed to spur my friends on. It was as if we were on a mission: every time we saw a gull anywhere near humans, or looking as if it was going to start helping itself to human food, we scared it away.

‘Let’s hope those pesky gulls get the message in the end,’ Stinky said. ‘We don’t want them on our patch.’

And so it was that for the remainder of my time with the ferals, we dispersed more seagulls from the town than any cats anywhere could ever have done before. We were strong, we were powerful, we were fearless and undefeatable. Before long, we could see we were really making a difference, starting to keep the area free of scavenging seagulls and pleasing the human population, who on the whole were becoming kinder towards us.

I was particularly aware of this because of listening to the conversations of the two females called Jean and Shirley. Unknown to Big – who would definitely have tried to stop me – I’d started hanging around the café where they seemed to meet every day. They’d noticed me outside the fence again, and had called out hello to me in such friendly voices, I knew they were kind humans who wouldn’t hurt me. I was desperate for some human affection, and I knew Big wouldn’t understand. So I waited until he was having a nap, and went back to the café on my own. This time when Jean noticed me and said ‘Here he is again! Hello, little tabby cat. You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?’ – I scampered up to her and wound myself around her legs.

‘Ah, he’s really quite tame,’ Shirley crooned, reaching down to stroke me. ‘And he only looks young, Jean, not much more than a kitten. Perhaps he isn’t a feral after all.’

‘But look at the state of him. He’s definitely been fighting – and his coat’s in a terrible state. Poor little thing. How come you’re so friendly?’ Jean added, as I started to purr with the contentment of being stroked.

‘Because I’m not feral! I’m a pet, and I’m lost,’ I meowed, rubbing my head against her hand.

‘Perhaps he’s actually a lost pet,’ Shirley said, as if I hadn’t just been telling her that.

‘I don’t know,’ Jean said, looking at me doubtfully. ‘If he is, I reckon he’s been living rough for most of his life.’

‘Someone must be feeding him, then, unless he’s just hunting mice and birds.’

‘Or else he’s living on scraps, like all the other ferals – and helping to keep those dratted gulls away,’ Jean said, and then she laughed, and added, ‘although I can’t imagine this little chap chasing a seagull like the others have been doing, can you, Shirley?’

I felt a bit offended, then. Little did they know, I was getting as good at it as any of them! Anyway I didn’t hang around for much longer – I was too worried that Big would wake up and come looking for me, and I could just imagine how he’d feel about me not only fraternising with strange humans, but letting them stroke me. But I felt a bit better for having made friends with them, and I was determined to come back again whenever I could. It was, after all, how I got information for the other boys about what humans were saying. And, eventually, it was how I came to be taken home to my family. But that’s another story, and I can see there are some small kittens among you getting sleepy. So I think we should probably say goodnight for now, and I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.