MY SAVIOR Part 3 (The making of a mom) We got off to a wrong start, the Mom and I. I say ‘the’ mom because she was the girl’s mom till such time. For one I resented the time and attention she took from the girl who wanted to hear all the news of her papa and others. I would give her angry glares of possessiveness whenever she entered the girl’s room where we both might be sitting. I would give her the royal ignore whenever she tried to be friendly with me. It was that the Mom was still not used to having someone afoot. I had this habit of sleeping outside in the space between the two bedroom doors. The very first morning, the doorbell rang and the Mom hurriedly opened her door to answer it. Not being used to me being there on the floor she while stepping outside inadvertently went trampling all over ME! I yowled in pain and quite in reaction gave her a good sharp bite on her foot. My fangs must have gone in deep because her foot started bleeding even as she ran to the door to answer the bell. The hallway corridor was covered in drops of blood. I knew I had done something very terribly wrong so I hid under the table for fear of reprisal. However, surprisingly, the Mom though she was howling a bit with the pain, came up to me and said, “Never mind, never mind. It IS my fault after all. I stepped all over you. Poor cat did you get hurt? Are you ok?” That was a little surprising for me. I figured she couldn’t be all that bad and warmed up to her a bit. However, she was quite clear that ‘the cat had to go’ in spite of her daughter’s cajoling. “We are leaving Dubai” she would say “and we CANNOT take the cat!” However, she was getting used to me by and by. She even began calling me by the name that the girl had anointed me with instead of as just ‘the cat’. “So Floyd, how are we today?” she might say though she would rather have named me ‘Fluffy’ or some such fluff. She would wonder about me, “Do you think his previous name might have been Garfield, eh?” or “How could they leave their cat just like that?” My manners also played their part in helping me to be accepted by her. I always meowed my ‘good morning’ at her when she woke up which she started expecting and enjoying. She also began to appreciate the fact that I used the litter box like a good cat, watching how careful I was to cover my tracks; that I ate ready cooked food for cats, that I never ‘attacked’ my food like hungry dogs do but approached my food bowl with gentlemanly un-haste. She began to like my sense of independence, my dignity in not asking for too much (like dogs do). I think she also realized that she would not have to ‘walk’ me or cook for me. The girl was quite cool knowing her Mom was caving in gradually. To clinch matters at one point, at some pretext or the other, she told her mom to just hold me for a minute. Mom hesitatingly complied and I kind of helped matters by just melting in her arms. “Oh” she went, “he is so soft and cuddly!” That was it. From exactly that point onwards, I do not exaggerate, she finally became MY mom! So now my Mom started laying out the food for me, petting me and generally making me her own in her own inimitable Indian style. I just gut-knew that once she had accepted she would never let me go and would love me forever. I had become her baby just as much as her daughter was.
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 07:12:10 +0000
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