the big cat and the little cat

on the worn armrest of the old, brown sofa, the little cat slept. this was his favorite spot. the material was faded and slick, the padding flattened by years of dreaming and purring and watching. that is what he liked most. just watching. he would look out the small, dirty window at the trafic below, picturing the cars as mice. chasing them with his eyes. life was good.

his keeper was a lonely man. what was wrong with being lonely the little cat couldn't understand. he himself preferred it. no complications, no noise. but for his keeper, loneliness was a germ, a fungus on his hands that needed constant attention. and so the little cat let him pet him. every day he would come home and drop food in the bowl, sit down on the couch. the keeper watched the glowing box. the little cat watched the cars below. life was good.

one rainy day the little cat's keeper came home late. he knew he was late because the sky had grown dark and the glowing eyes of the cars streaked yellow across the window pane. it hurt his eyes to watch so he just slept and dreamed of a hundred mice of different colours trapped in a cardboard box. he just watched them crawl over each other. blue, red, yellow, white, green... they just walked back and forth squeeking, squeeking, squeeking.

the little cat awoke with the sound of the door latch turning. click. his keeper was home but something was different. he smelt the change before he saw it. someone was with him. another cat.

the little cat's keeper swung open the door and stepped onto the black mat in the entryway. his coat was shiny from the rain and he shook his umbrella out in the hall before fastening it closed and hanging it on a hook by the door. the little cat watched as he kicked off his rubber boots, blowing damp hair from his eyes as he bent to pick them up with one hand. he was holding somthing under his coat with the other. his keeper seemed to stumble and he opened his arm, loosing what was held snug beneath. who was held snug from the rain. the little cat's claws dug instinctively into the armrest, piercing the taught fabric with tiny popping sounds. the big cat just stood motionless where he fell to the wood floor. he was looking right back at the little cat. eyes wide, back slightly arched, the big cat licked its lips. in a deep voice he spoke the first awkward word, 'hello.'

the little cat did not reply. for a full minute he just stared at the newcomer as his keeper removed his coat and hung it in the closet. who was this big cat? why was he here? how could his master do this to him?

the big cat began checking things out. he climbed onto chairs, ducked under tables, poked his head into open doors. the little cat watched every move from his perch on the sofa arm. after he had satisfied his curiosity, the big cat jumped up onto the sofa and made his way over to the little cat. the little cat pretended not to see. 'hello,' he said again. no response. 'hello, whatcha doin'?' he asked. nothing. 'are you looking out the window? can i see?' silence. the little cat was ignoring him. maybe he will just go away, he thought. the big cat tried to see over the little cat, to see what was outside. he put his front paws on the armrest.

'GET OFF!' the small cat yelled. the big cat was startled. he quickly jumped to the floor and backed away from the little cat. 'this is my couch, this is my armrest and this is my window.' his voice lowered as he squinted his eyes. 'get it?' the little cat didn't wait for a response. he turned his head towards the dark outside and the yellow light caught in the rain dripping down the pane. the big cat was unsure how to react. was this to be his new home? he wondered.

the small cat awoke to the sad mewling. the big cat was in the closet. outside the sun was rising and the cars below began to come more frequently. the rain was still falling but in the daylight the driplets did not blur his vision. he couldn't concentrate though. the big cat was making too much noise. what was his problem? why couldn't he just go away? he tried to picture the cars as mice. tried to think of them with tails and colourful fur, trapped in a box with nowhere to go. but the crying. the big cat just wouldn't stop crying and it was driving him crazy. he jumped from the sofa and made his way gently to the closet. in the back, beside the vaccuum, the big cat was curled into a ball, his eyes glowing yellow in the shadows. he was so sad looking. so scared. the little cat didn't know what to do. 'could you pleeeaaasse be quiet?' he said rather rudely. the big cat swallowed and stopped his sobbing, large eyes blinking slowly.

the little cat turned and left him there in the dark. well at least he listens, he thought. he climbed back up onto the armrest and lay flat on his stomach. the spot was still warm. outside the rain had picked up and the droplets were bigger, making small tapping sounds as they hit the window ledge. the sky, street and even the cars looked grey. he closed his eyes and imagined a cardboard box. hundreds of colourful mice were scrambling inside. everything was quiet except for the tapping of the rain. it was better to be alone, he thought.

Jamie Read - January, 2006