Lilith
A story about a cat
Lilith
I got up, stretched and yawned to unlock my jaw. It can get a bit finicky when I nap for too long. How did it get so hot? Is the heating on? I made my way down and wondered whether lunch had already been prepared or if I needed to wait. As I made my way along the hallway of wood, I could hear an unfamiliar sound. I continued to walk down and saw the shape of a person sitting on the couch. Head down, hands to face. What’s going on? I wondered. I inched closer and sat next to her. What words could I speak? We don’t have the same language. Sigh. I heard her continue to sob. I couldn’t make out what was going on. Is she okay? I got up and inched closer, putting my hand on her lap gently. She looked up and moved it. Do you not want my time? I sat back and stared at her. This is distressing. I rubbed my head against her leg. She did not flinch but wiped her eyes and stared at me. I tried again but this time, she let me sit in her lap. I purred silently as she wiped her eyes some more.
She looked down at me as I curled up “Thank you.”
Her eyes closed to fall asleep as I purred.
You’re welcome, human.
***
You might be wondering, Lilith? What’s your story?
Contrary to how I am now ⸺all froo froo’d up with a little ribbon⸺I was the toughest cat this side of 11th street. I was ready to fight anyone who would dare test me. I was so tough I fought the Euclid triplets and they are the wildest group of cats I have ever met. You see, the Euclid triplets made fun of me.
“ You’re not a real street cat. You're just here because your previous owners left you by accident,” Everest snarled.
“Yea,” meowed Yves.
“ Can we just skip to the fighting already?”, their last triplet, Butter interjected.
With a name like Butter, you’d think she was the most delightful. No, Butter is the worst. Fights dirtier than anyone I ever met in the street.
“Bite me,” I yowled and scratched Everest. Next thing I know, I was fighting the three of them and managed to beat them all back. I didn’t know other cats in the neighbourhood were watching. I didn’t know I’d get a reputation out of it. Listen, I was just hurt. I was left—no, abandoned— by my owners. The people who loved me from when I was little or so I thought. How would YOU feel?
That’s how I got the name “Brawl.”
I don't remember my other name but Brawl suited me fine.Cost me a piece of my left ear but I slept well that night knowing that I was the victor.
The Euclid’s weren’t the only battles a street cat has to deal with. The worst fights to get into? No, not pointless fights even though there are a few of those. The garbage. I mean, the literal garbage I foraged to get a decent meal. You had to wait until the garbage truck came through and then you hoped for some of the scraps. Then you have six other critters waiting to get what you have waited so patiently for. Especially those D.C. rats. They don’t fear nothin’. They just grab it and run. Even if you catch them, they’d gnaw themselves out. I have never seen anything like them rats. I hear humans even talk about them.
Life as a street cat wasn’t always down, you know. When you’re outside all day, you can do whatever you want. Catch a couple birds for fun⸺Not saying its right to do this but I made some bird friends that were okay with a little chase here and there. Nothin’ wrong with a little fun when all you do is try to survive all the changing seasons. Running away from people that tried to catch me and losing them by going to the usual spots. The spots are too small for humans to get to but just right for me to. It’s nothing to shake those people. They don’t know what I know about the streets. I missed being hugged and being cuddled. It was my second summer in the streets when she found me.
My human.
***
The largest fluffy cloud of hair. I could see it belonged to a person but I couldn’t really make out her face. She was banging those damn cans together like she had nothing better to do. I was cold, I was sick and I was damn tired. All the banging around really got to me.
So, I meowed.
It was a lazy meow.
Just to let her know that she was distracting my afternoon sleep.
One that you let out because you’re bored. But she heard me anyway. I thought she was leaving for good when she turned. But soon enough, she came out with treats. She didn’t smell like another cat so I wasn’t suspicious. I followed until she shut me in a case.
They don’t call me brawl for anything. I thrashed, I scratched, I meowed and yowled until I realised it was no use. This thing was solid.
I was let out in a cold room. The table was cold. The human touched me all over. Not the one I wanted attention from. He didn’t have a cloud of hair.
I was carried out and saw the fluffy hair again. I was so excited that I almost scratched her hand.
So, that’s how I became Lilith.
Do I miss the streets? Sometimes. But it’s nice I can catch them from my window.
They say I’ve grown soft these, who wouldn’t ? I have a human who needs taking care of. She can barely get up sometimes so I have to meow at her to think I need food when I am actually concerned that she hasn’t eaten yet. That’s my job, the human alarm.
Now, wake up!