Odd that she said those words, as if she sensed I was on the brink of a momentous decision. I took my job as a support cat very seriously. Most cats only had one human to look after. I had two. Angie, who was still hurting from Graham dumping her, still missing Poppy, and trying too hard to be an earth-angel to Leroy. And Leroy, who needed me even more.
On that drowsy afternoon in late summer, my life should have been blessed. I should have been full of gratitude for a home where I was loved and pampered. I was the best cat in the street and, when I sat up on the garden wall, everyone who passed by admired me.‘Aren’t you beautiful!’ and ‘What a magnificent cat,’ and ‘You’re so fluffy, and so friendly. I wish you were my cat.’ I soaked it all up, like fan mail. It was like an insurance too. I knew that if I followed any one of those adoring fans down the road, they would adopt me.
But something was missing from my life: Vati. I tried to get used to it, the way Angie was coping without Graham. The way she still laughed and smiled and got on with it. I was managing OK, until the momentous decision arrived like an unstoppable rain cloud darkening the sunlight.
I was sitting against the wall, close to the big stone in the place where I’d sensed a precious line of communication. My direct chat line to Vati. So far our long-distance chats had been misty but joyful. Vati had appeared with his tail up, looking sleek and mystic. He told me he was OK with Graham and Lisa. He told me Lisa had a baby girl, Heidi, and Heidi was crawling all over the house like a cat.
The Spirit Lion had taught me how to sense the energy line with my pads, so I did that now, and visualised Vati’s winsome little face with the white dot on the nose. His eyes flashed up before me, black and terrified. My paws began to burn with pain. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’ I asked, but Vati seemed totally unable to communicate. I tried and tried and got no response. Darkness inked its way along the golden pathway, right into my heart.
I sat there, stunned.
Something terrible had happened to Vati.
I ran to Angie. She was leaning on the garden wall, watching the road.‘Leroy should be back soon, from his first day at big school,’ she told me, and scooped me into her arms. Normally I would have purred and made a fuss of her, but now I felt my heart was breaking.
I had to go.
I had to find Vati.
Sadly and silently, I licked Angie’s dear face which was warm from the sun. It was my last chance to love her. I should say goodbye nicely, I thought. I should purr. But I couldn’t. I felt like a cat torn in two.
The best I could manage was a long stare into her sensitive eyes, and immediately Angie saw that something was wrong.‘What’s the matter, Timba?’
I couldn’t bear to say goodbye. I slid out of her arms and jumped down to the pavement.
‘Timba? Are you OK? Timba …’
I half turned, flicked my tail, and gave Angie a silent meow. Then I trotted purposefully down the road, my tail down, my heart heavy. I didn’t look back, even when I heard the school bus, and the sound of Leroy dragging his school bag along the ground. He’d had a bad day. And I was a support cat. What was I doing?
The only glad thought in my mind was that I’d eaten all of my lunch, every last crumb of the delicious, easy food Angie made for me. I was healthy and strong, my coat luxurious and well brushed. It would keep me warm through the lonely nights of my journey south … back through the dark forest, and over the shining river, to the green hills where I’d been born.
Angie thought I would come back, like I always did. She’d trusted me, and let me be free, and it had been the best life a cat could have. She’d patiently helped Leroy, taught him how to love me the way a cat should be loved, and he was getting it right. I had grown to love Leroy. Now he’d think I’d abandoned him.
For a long time I heard Angie and Leroy calling me, but I trotted on automatically, as if my mind and body were totally separate. On and on through the streets, not even pausing to put my tail up and let somebody stroke me, not worrying about traffic or dogs, or which way to go. I knew. My instinct was crystal clear, and I let it guide me south. I kept going, until the voices and memories faded, and a sense of detachment hung over me like the shadow of night.
Crossing the road was VERY scary. I spent a lot of time crouched under parked cars, watching for a clear space. Judging the speed of cars was a skill I hadn’t developed and, after a couple of near misses, my confidence was shaken. The endless, confusing streets and the exhaust fumes gave me a headache. In the deepening yellow light of late afternoon, I took refuge in a garden. The gate was open, so I crept in and hid under an evergreen covered in scarlet berries. I scent-marked its stout trunk and leaned against it, feeling the calm energy of the plant world stabilising my agitated heartbeat. It was good to have a wall between me and the traffic.