Feels Like Home
The Mostly Trust Story of a Cross-Eyed Cat
All Photos by Dennett
There was lots of commotion. Boxes everywhere. I couldn’t make sense of it. It’s hard for me to see well but my hearing and sense of smell are extraordinary.
Everything was off — the aromas were different, the sounds were loud and scary. The one I loved, the one who gave me a home, who fed me and slept with me, was frantically moving around, going from room to room, putting things in the boxes. Her voice was screechy and worried. Usually she spends long moments petting me, talking to me softly, feeding me little fishy treats. But, when the pandemonium started, she stopped. She avoided me, walked around me, closed the door that last night so I had to sleep alone on the couch, wondering what was happening and why I couldn’t be with her.
The next day, the boxes disappeared as she and her roommate, a rude girl who never liked me much, took them through the door and out to somewhere. I looked out the window but everything was too far away, and I can’t see faraway things. I didn’t see the girls or the boxes. Just lots of light and fuzzy buildings.
She and the rude girl came back a long while later, but she didn’t come near me, although I ran to her. She was crying and ran into our room, the place where we used to sleep together, and closed the door. I stood at the door and cried, but she wouldn’t open it. A while later, she came out with her arms full of clothes. Still crying and avoiding me, she again went out the door with the rude girl.
After a long time, some smelly boys came and took the furniture through the same door. I wandered around the empty space, confused and frightened, looking for my litter box or food or her. Again and again, I went to the closed door, smelling the space at the bottom, hoping to smell her.
Just as the sun was leaving, I heard steps, not the steps of her but the steps of the rude girl. I saw her blurry shape come through the door and heard her gruff voice talking into a box at her ear.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him. You never should have gotten him in the first place. What were you thinking? You knew we needed to move as soon as school ended. Don’t worry. He’ll be fine. The Humane Society will find him a home.”
Find him a home? Was she talking about me? She had to be talking about me — I was the only him there. Why did I need a home? This was my home!
I saw the blur of her come across the room to where I sat in an empty corner, wishing there was a place to hide from the rude girl. She reached down and grabbed me by the neck. I yowled because it hurt. She told me to shut up and tucked me roughly under her arm. We walked through the door, the same door where the boxes and furniture and she disappeared.
Down the steps we went. I hadn’t seen those steps since the day she carried me up them. The day she gave me a home.
At the bottom, one of the smelly boys waited. “So, are we taking him to the Humane Society?” he asked.
“Hell, no!” rude girl answered, “I don’t have time to drive this stupid cat across town. She’ll never know.”
Rude girl dropped me on the ground and stamped her feet. I ran under a car.
“Someone will see the cross-eyed bastard and feel sorry for him. We gotta go.”
Rude girl and smelly boy got in a different car. The doors slammed and I heard the tires crunching on dead leaves as it left the parking lot.
I looked around but could only make out the things closest to me — the tires of the car, some grass and a bush in front of the car, a child’s bike next to the sidewalk. There was lots of noise — engines of cars, people talking and laughing, birds, a loud siren in the distance. I hunched down and moved slowly toward the blinding sunlight. I don’t like bright light — it makes everything blurrier. I smelled as hard as I could, my nose up in the air, but I couldn’t smell her.
I found the stairs and climbed them slowly, cautiously. I found the mysterious door where everything, including me, disappeared. Putting my nose down to the space, I breathed deeply hoping I would find her scent there, inside where it used to be, but I only smelled emptiness.
Someone opened a door nearby, and I jumped and ran down the stairs, falling down the last three, landing on my nose. There were steps coming from above and a strange, deep voice. I ran and ran, not knowing where I was or where I was going, until I reached a green place with trees and grass and leaves. The sun was gone now and everything was shadowy and dark.
I found a hiding space under some branches that were low to the ground. I smelled the earth, and it smelled safe so I stayed. The green hiding place was terribly dark in the night and new noises frightened me. I heard cats crying and howling, owls hooting, and animals scurrying about in the leaves. Pushing my body as close to the ground as I could, trying to be small, I waited for the sun to return.
Hunger brought me out to the place of cars and people. I smelled something good — maybe, chicken. With nose in the air, I followed the scent until coming to a huge green box. I circled the box, trying to find a way to get inside to the smell. My stomach growled. Not finding a hole anywhere, I searched for a way to climb the big box. Leaping as high as I could, my body slammed on the side of the box and my claws scraped on the metal as I found little ledges to support my feet. Inching my way up the side of the box, the smell of chicken grew stronger.
Reaching the top, I saw a big opening. I balanced on the edge and looked inside. There were boxes, papers, glass bottles, aluminum cans — all things I had seen in the tall white plastic container in her home. The smell of chicken made me hungrier. I couldn’t tell how far down those things were because my depth perception isn’t good. I took a chance and jumped, falling farther than I expected, landing on something soft and spongy like the mattress where I used to sleep with her. It smelled of people and smoke.
Following my nose, I found the chicken and started eating it, bones and all. Suddenly I felt a thump behind me. Something landed near me. I smelled a cat, a male cat like me. I turned to him. He was big and gray. He hissed and growled. Before I could display my belly to show my willingness to be friends, he jumped on me. I felt his claws tearing into my skin. Pieces of fur flew around me. I’m not a fighter; I can’t see well enough to fight. I did the best I could but was no match for that cat. I managed to get away and scrambled to the top of the big box. The sound of him coming behind me was terrifying, and I leaped into the air, falling with a hard splat on the parking lot below.
I ran and ran and ran. The mean cat followed me. I ran under and around cars, through grass and bushes, knocking over a tall plastic container, much like one that she had. Its contents emptied on the ground and a voice yelled, “Get outta here, you damn cat!”
I ran with the gray cat behind me until I reached the green, leafy place. Then I ran some more, deep and deeper into the dark green space, until I could run no more.
I slumped to the ground, realizing I was panting. Never had I panted. I stayed very still until my breathing calmed. I listened and smelled.
I heard and smelled birds and squirrels, green leafy things, and damp earth. No cats. I crawled into a dark, hidden spot, as far back as I could go.
I looked at my broken skin that dripped a red liquid. I saw patches where hair was missing. I licked those injured spots but the most painful places were on my neck and back, out of my tongue’s reach. When I tired of licking, I slept.
The sun came and went twice while I stayed in the cool, dark place. My stomach longed for food; I longed for my home and for her. Where had they gone?
My body was weak and I knew death would come if I didn’t soon find food. I left the dark, leafy place in search of the big metal box with the odor of chicken. As I walked into the sunlight, smelling and listening for the mean cat, I remembered the plastic container that I knocked over. It had the odor of food too and seemed safer than the big, green box.
I found the white, plastic container but it was upright, leaving me to wonder if it was the right container in the right place. I picked up the aroma of food on the ground and followed it until I found strips of chicken skin, a greasy piece of brown meat, and a crusty chunk of bread.
I ate too quickly to enjoy the taste of the chicken skin or the brown meat. As I bit into the bread, my ears picked up the sound of padded footsteps. Two cats were approaching from behind. One of the cats was my enemy from the other day; the other was an even larger white and black cat. I dropped the bread and slowly backed up until my rear end was tight against a building’s wall. The cats creeped closer, growling deeply. I had nowhere to go; no avenue of escape.
Then, there were voices, girl voices like hers. One said, “There he is. Poor guy! I told you he was cross-eyed.”
She yelled at the mean cats. Another voice joined hers. The cats ran away.
The girl who spoke first came very slowly, cooing softly. I thought about running but I was so very tired, and this girl reminded me of her. She came close enough for me to see she wore glasses and had long blonde hair. As she reached out to me, I collapsed to the ground. Beside her was another girl with short, dark hair. She smiled and made soothing sounds.
The blonde girl picked me up, and I leaned into her soft chest, thinking she smelled a little like her.
The girls took me to a place that smelled of dogs, other cats, and food. They fed me squishy, delicious meat while two dogs waited impatiently in little cages.
I explored the crowded space. The two girls opened a door and three cats came out to meet me. I was scared. They weren’t friendly but neither were they mean. One hissed at me. I ran and hid under a chair. The dark-haired girl shooed the cats into the other room.
Just before the sun left, the blonde girl put me in a pool of water. I tried to escape but her strokes calmed me, and I settled into the liquid warmth surrounding me. She gently cleaned the bites and scratches left by the gray cat. Lifting me out of the water, she wrapped me in a fluffy, blue towel. Being in that warm place, as she dried off my fur and whispered words I didn’t understand, was like heaven. I never wanted to leave her or that place.
I stayed a long time there. The sun came and went many times. The girls were kind, shifting the other cats from room to room and putting the dogs in cages so I could feel safe as I walked about the space crowded with furniture, clothes, and books or slept on the dark red sofa that had the smells of years of being sat upon.
Sometimes friends came to visit, always girls. Again and again the two girls told the story of how they saw me from their window and went to rescue me. I never tired of hearing that story!
The blonde girl took pictures of me with a little box and said she would put up flyers around the neighborhood and put them on a place called Facebook. I didn’t understand why strangers would want to see a photo of me.
The two girls told their friends they were looking for my owner, and I became hopeful they would find her, but they never did. Still, I was okay with that. No longer did I think of her all the time. I was happy in this new place.
After a while, they asked their friends to give me a home. What?? I have a home, I thought, a home here with you and the two dogs and three cats, even though they don’t like me much. But, they continued to ask, always saying the space was too small, too many animals, no money.
One day the other cats were locked in the bedroom and the dogs shooed into their cages. I was sitting on the sofa when the door opened and some people came inside. Their smells were unfamiliar. I ran under a chair and looked up fearfully as they came into the small living room.
There were three big people and two small. I wondered if the small people were just undersized people but realized they must be human kittens. Three people were girls, two were boys.
The small female kitten had a high voice that never stopped chattering. Her quick movements made me uncomfortable, but she was the first to come close to me, kneeling down on the floor, putting her face close enough to mine that I could see she had kind eyes. She coaxed me out from underneath the chair and petted me from the top of my head to the end of my tail.
The male kitten, who was bigger than the female one, walked over to where we were. His movements were soft, his voice was gentle. He reached down, pushed aside the other female kitten’s hand, and petted me several times.
The other boy was much bigger, taller — definitely not a kitten. He had white hair and skin with little folds around his eyes and mouth. He watched me carefully, as though studying me.
One of the bigger girls was tall, thin and had long black hair and wore glasses. Her eyes were different than the other human eyes I’d seen — small, narrow, and slanted — and her voice had a different sound. She seemed to struggle with some words like they weren’t too familiar to her. She petted me too and said she wished she could “take me back to China” with her. I didn’t know what that meant but was sure I didn’t want to go.
The other big girl was rounder and shorter than the girl with the small eyes. Her hair was brown but had lots of silver pieces in it, and her face had the same little folds as the big boy.
She and the big boy waited patiently while the others petted and talked to me. After a few minutes, my blonde girl scooped me up and deposited me on the lap of the girl with silver in her hair. She was soft like a pillow and smelled of freshness and happy things. The big boy with white hair sat next to her. They both stroked me. I purred and rubbed against them, wondering who they were and why they were visiting only me. Where were the other cats? The dogs? Why not visit them, too?
I curled up on the soft girl’s lap. She looked at the white-haired boy and said, “So, what do you think?”
The boy smiled, “I think he has a new home.”
New home? Me? Am I leaving here? Where am I going? But, I must have misunderstood because all those strangers left, and I stayed with the two girls, three cats, and two dogs.
The sun came and went several times before the soft girl and the white-haired boy returned. No human kittens, no girl with small eyes. They put me in a soft, black box with a handle and took me out the door, as my two girls waved good-bye and asked for photos of me.
I thought I should be scared but I wasn’t. Leaving with them felt right. We got into a car. The soft girl drove and the white-haired boy held the box containing me in his lap.
We went to a place where they put me on a cold metal table. A thin girl wearing a white jacket looked over my body, ruffling my hair to look at the scars that were almost gone, that stopped hurting a long time ago. She talked about my eyes, shined a light in each one, and said I couldn’t see well. She looked in my ears and opened my mouth to see my teeth. “Hmm, his gums are red and inflamed. I don’t see any injuries to his mouth though. Probably just his adult teeth coming in but we’ll look closer when he’s getting neutered.” What’s that? I wondered.
Then, the white-coated girl pushed something hard and cold up my butt. That really scared me, and I cried from the indignity of it. But, it got worse when she stuck little thin metal things in my legs and neck. I could feel some sort of liquid going into my body. I was sure I would die, but I didn’t.
Back into the soft box. Back into the car.
Next we stopped at a building with lots of flowers and plants in front of it. A pretty place. Prettier than the place where she lived, prettier than the home of the two girls. When the whited-haired man carried my box inside, I smelled the odors of a cat and dogs and some other animal scents I couldn’t identify, and food.
He let me out of the box and I looked around, trying to make sense of the blurry images before me. A big brown and white female dog came up to me, touching her nose to mine. I hissed in fear, but she ignored me, licked my face, and walked away. Her legs were kind of crooked, making her walk stiffly. She smelled of oldness.
Another dog, male and much smaller but also brown and white, came up to me cautiously as though he were curious enough to check me out but not interested enough to get to know me like the other dog tried. He smelled of oldness, too. He sniffed in my direction, looked bored, and walked away, his short, fat legs moving slowly.
I wandered around the space that was much larger and less crowded than the place of the two girls or the place of her. I could smell another cat — the scent was of a male cat but the boy odor was less, not as strong as other male cats I’d been around. Timidly I moved about, while the soft woman followed me as though she was afraid I would get lost.
Suddenly he appeared. He was orange and white, about my size but a little heavier. His back bowed up, and he hissed loudly, growled deeply. Instinctively I was scared but something told me he wasn’t a danger, just worried and uncomfortable. I walked closer, hoping to make friends, but he hissed and growled more and ran away. I followed into a room with a bed, and he turned on me. We tussled and rolled around but it was nothing like the fight with the gray cat. This cat wasn’t happy I was there, but he didn’t want to kill me. There was a lot of noise but we weren’t biting or scratching.
The white-haired boy ran into the bedroom and used a broom to shoo us apart. I ran under the bed and so did the orange cat. We sat at opposite ends and glared at each other until I slinked away and went in the big room where the white-haired boy and the soft girl were sitting on a sofa. I jumped up between them, rubbing back and forth against their bodies, claiming them as mine. Hah, I thought, the orange cat won’t like this!
Then, I curled up on the lap of the white-haired boy and looked around, wondering if this was the new home the two girls had talked about.
Later, after the sun left, I learned what the other strange animal smell was. The white-haired boy put two little brown and white creatures on the sofa next to the soft girl. They reminded me of fat, slow kittens. I jumped up and smelled them. The soft girl watched me closely as if she thought I would grab one and run. She told me they were guinea pigs and that I needed to be gentle with them. I touched my nose against their noses.
Maybe they would be fun to play with but I knew the soft girl wouldn’t like that so I jumped on the floor and watched as she fed them green and red things and petted them just like she petted me. The white-haired boy was cleaning out wire boxes where the little fur-balls live. When he was done, the girl put them back in the boxes. Interesting, I thought. She didn’t have little fur-balls and neither did the two girls.
When the sky was dark, they put me in a different room with a bed. There was a litter box and food and water dishes on the floor. The soft girl made me a nest of blankets on top of the bed. That’s where I slept for two nights. It was comfortable but lonely. I wanted to be with the soft girl and white-haired boy, but they made me sleep alone.
After the sun came and went twice, the white-haired boy and the soft girl took me back to the white-coated girl with the cold, metal table and left me there. Someone stuck another long silver thing in my leg, and I fell asleep. When I woke up, the place between my back legs hurt a little and when I tried to lick there, I saw two pieces of me were missing. My mouth hurt, too. I wondered where the white-haired boy and soft girl were. I was worried I had another new home and this was it. I didn’t want to live in this place where people kept sticking things in my legs and stole pieces of my body.
Then, I heard a voice in the distance and knew it was the soft girl! She came into the room carrying the same box I was in before. The white-coated girl picked me up and told the soft girl that she took away four bad teeth and something called testicles. She said I would be fine.
The soft girl put me in the box and took me home.
The sun has come and gone several more times. The orange cat and I are slowly getting used to each other. I mostly ignore his growls and hisses that happen less and less often. Now I sleep on a big bed with the white-haired boy, the soft girl, and the orange cat. The orange cat and I stay far away from each other but sometimes when he’s asleep, I creep a little closer. One day we will sleep side-by-side, I just know it!
The girl and boy human kittens come often and sometimes sleep in the room where I once slept. They love me and I love them. The girl with the small eyes hasn’t been around; I guess she returned to that place called China. I am glad she didn’t take me with her.
Along with this new home and family came a new name — Sébastien. I like it. The sound makes me feel distinguished, not cross-eyed and different.
I almost never think of her or the two girls anymore. The soft girl and the white-haired boy give me good food and clean my litter box every day. They pet me a lot. The two dogs mostly ignore me and sleep away the day, and the orange cat and I are almost friends. I have lots of room to play and soft places to lay.
