Love is a Troublesome Tail
Yoshinobu Akita
It’s summer now, but let’s begin with winter.
Every story is rooted in fate. Fate links the seasons together in an unending chain. To know what summer means you have to know winter, which requires an understanding of spring, and so on.
As far as winter goes, some cats loathe it so much they would prefer not to mention it.
Yet it’s not so bad. As vexing as the heavy rains and cold can be, the season is not without its small charms. The blanket that warms Miss Margot’s lap while she waits at the bus stop is thick and comfortable. When she’s not using it, that blanket hangs on the wall, above the shelf with the potpourri. Gold Osmanthus and apple and… Oddly enough, I love the scents I can’t identify more than those I can. They serve as a reminder that there is much I do not yet know about the world.
I began entertaining such thoughts during my second life.
The longer one lives, the more complicated one’s perceptions become. You quickly learn there is more to the world than nuzzling at your mother’s soft fur.
Yes, the world is so complex that one must consider each of the seasons.
In spring, people ecstatically welcome the sun’s return. But as the showers fade and the mist thins, the sun outstays its welcome.
In time the winds change, summer arrives, and none speak of those frosty spring days.
Eventually, the sun grows so strong that humans worry about its ultraviolet light. Humans are the only ones concerned with such things. Serves them right for standing on their hind legs and walking around with their heads so high. To make up for this evolutionary mistake, they invented hats. I’m sure that’s why their ears are so small and situated so oddly. Poor things. Why are other creatures so different from cats? I genuinely pity them.
The world was clearly made for us.
Cats live and reign throughout the known universe.
Ulthar is one such place, a human village where cats have lived in harmony for a very long time.
That day, I was asleep at my usual spot on the wall. Every day I would rise with the sun to leave my bed and patrol my territory. By the time I reached the wall, it would have slipped into the shade of a nearby tree. I always passed my mornings there, enjoying the pleasant breeze.
When Margot walked by, she stretched out her aching back and rubbed my head. I didn’t want to hear the popping of her joints or the accompanying grunt of pain, so when I heard her approach I jumped down off the wall. That way she could remain hunched over.
There was nothing to trouble me here. Even the ghastly sight of Mackowick, who had recently taken up jogging, could be easily avoided by shutting one’s eyes. Sadly, evading the odor of his boozy sweat was far more difficult.
The wall was the perfect spot. I could doze off and savor that perfection.
What is the one consistent truth of this and every other universe?
All cats know the answer: There is nothing better than being a cat.
“Wait,” I hear you cry. “Cats know about the universe?”
Naturally. We live with humans, so we know what humans know. As long as cats exist, everything belongs to us.
In return, I suppose, for complete ownership of everything, cats are perfectly willing to share their bounty. Well, unless something is tasty; then it’s wholly ours. We also lay claim to soft beds, animals’ twitching tails, and a few other things. Well, several dozens of things. But we’re not greedy. Cats are capable of great generosity.
People should know they are not like cats. They should be mindful of their imperfections, always an advantageous point of view. It’s a state of mind that benefits not only humans but all non-cat creatures as well.
After all, there is nothing better than being a cat, nothing more right than being a cat, and nothing more perfect than cats.
Fools who cannot understand this will roast in the flames of hell. Not that any such fools exist…
“I hate cats! They’re grumpy, creepy, and useless. Dogs are way better.”
…I could have sworn I heard something, but the statement simply made no sense. How could one comprehend the ravings of a simpleton?
So I didn’t heed it. My ears twitched, but not because those words bothered me. They didn’t. I simply felt someone looking at me and looked back. A human boy and girl stood near my sleeping wall by the fork in the road.
I’d seen the girl before; she was one of the village children. I didn’t know her name, but she came from Tika’s house.
Humans all had so little fur that it was difficult to tell them apart, but I still identified this child as Tika’s girl. After all, she held Tika in her arms.
This girl was likely signaling her special position, a human permitted to live with a refined feline like Tika. But the boy was unimpressed by such elevated status and continued his delusional ramblings.
“You can’t tell what cats are thinking! I mean, look at that cat over there! It’s ugly, doesn’t make any noise, and it’s been glaring at us this whole time! Even though it can’t possibly know what we’re saying,” he muttered.
Drop dead.
This thought came to me unbidden, completely out of the blue. An aimless whim, if you will. Naturally, cats paid no heed to the words of mere humans. The difficulty I had in retracting my claws was totally unrelated to the boy’s words.
I didn’t care at all.
I went back to sleep. This was the most comfortable time of day, and I wasn’t about to allow crazy talk to ruin it. I licked my paws a few times, and my claws retracted.
I slept until the wind died down but noticed the faint, odd scent that lingered in my nostrils.
That boy…
His scent wasn’t human.
“Hi, Palul. Haven’t seen you at the Cat Place in a while.”
Before we continue, I must explain two pieces of essential, cat-only information.
You may not believe this, but the Cat Place…was a place for cats.
Cats gathered there. It was a protected zone, where cats came together, exchanged information, peered into the depths of the world, and occasionally performed songs and poetry.
There was no set time to meet and often not even a set place. But all cats knew where the Cat Place was. No invitation required, no call sent out; if one wished to attend, one would find it. Such was the law of the universe; simply a fundamental fact of being a cat.
And the other, perhaps more pertinent bit of information is that my name is Palul.
“Hi, Cole,” I said, returning the greeting. Cole was on his fifth life and like a brother to me. We’d been together since I could remember, and had lived our second lives together. I’d reached my third life first, but Cole had entered his fourth before me. And his fifth. I wondered which of us would reach our sixth first. It wasn’t like we arranged these things, but for some reason neither of us had ever left the other far behind.
Cole had been in charge of this Cat Place for some time. There were no strict rules regarding management; he’d just fallen into the role. He was a natural advertiser, perhaps because his flat face resembled a billboard. A fat housecat with dark gray fur that blended into the night, he may have looked sluggish, but he could strike an enemy faster than anyone. Cole was the go-to cat for any important matters.
“Came across something that bothered me,” I told him.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
Night had fallen. I’d finished my nap, patrolled my territory again, and come straight here.
Cole thoughtfully licked his paw.
“Then we’ve got just the cat to help you out,” he said, pointing at the heart of the Cat Place. “Tonight is Tika’s stage.”
“Before I go over there, what do you think of her?” I asked.
Cole folded his ears and lay down.
“I think I’m too old for her nonsense.”
“I’m looking for an evaluation, not a knee-jerk reaction.”
“Same thing.”
Cole was being very dismissive of Tika, a young cat in the prime of her second life. Certainly, seeing her ensconced in the center of the room, lapping up everyone’s attention, I could understand how Cole felt. I, too, would rather be at home, asleep, my tail tucked cozily around me. However, this afternoon had put me on edge.
“My nose sensed trouble,” I explained.
Cole raised a single ear.
“Well, then that is trouble. Careful, Palul. If you make a fuss, you could start a panic.”
“I met a child today who didn’t smell human,” I said.
He flattened his ears again, snorted once, and muttered, “Not worth the fuss. I know better.”
“You know what?”
“Human scents are unreliable. Even their breath and sweat can lie. They’re born to be deceitful.”
Simple, and very like Cole.
I headed toward the center of the Cat Place.
Cats had gathered in a circle and were getting all worked up rather quickly. Only the younger cats had come here tonight. Ordinarily, cats of good sense dominated the Cat Place, but today, Tika appeared to have thrown rationality out the window.
As I approached the circle, no cats turned to look. I listened in silence.
“He appeared again! The human devil! The devil child!” Tika shrieked, her white fur standing on end, her tail raised. Her eyes were wide and her whiskers quivered as she threw her entire body into the speech. “Take care! If we leave him be, he’ll become a devil! He’ll start killing cats! He’s the devil’s child!”
“Devil! Devil!”
“And to think, after such a creature had finally been vanquished! The king got rid of it!”
“You can try and cast it out, but the devil will never truly be gone!”
The other cats yowled similar things, their ears up, fur on end.
“We’ll be killed! Killed again!” one of them cried.
“More blight! The blight!” said another.
“Blight! The king got rid of it, but it will return!”
Their lashing tails narrowly missed my nose.
The cats screamed so loud it rattled me. I couldn’t quite figure out how to interject. Second-life cats weren’t terribly sophisticated creatures. They tended to cry often, satisfied as long as their voices were loud and heard. At least they were a sight better than the first-lifers, who often forgot what they were even crying about.
“Tika,” I said, but her performance continued unabated.
“I’m sure of it! I saw him! Right up close!” she cried.
“Tika, come talk to me.”
“That child hates cats! The devil exists! My poor Emma went home crying, poor thing!”
“Tika, I’d like to ask about him.”
“A cat-hater walks in Ulthar! The outsider! The interloper!” they all shouted.