Alf was standing in the doorway, watching me.‘It’s OK, puss,’ he said, ‘it’s dead … been dead for years … it’s a rug now, you can walk on it … look.’ He strode forward and placed his muddy boots on the tiger’s beautiful coat, where the colours were so achingly bright. I was appalled.
My terror became a fragment of the global sadness that engulfed me, along with the bewilderment. How could humans be so disrespectful? I glanced at Alf, and saw guilt deep down in his soul, simmering, seeking a way out.‘I didn’t shoot him,’ he said to me. ‘Bought him, years ago, at an auction. Splendid, isn’t he? We love him.’
Love him! I couldn’t stay in that house for another minute.
Running scared and low to the ground, I escaped through the open door, and saw the woman, who held a dish of cat food in her hand.‘Here you are, puss,’ she crooned. I flattened my ears and shot past her into the yard. Chickens flew everywhere, and the dog chased me triumphantly as I streaked across the yard. I ran hard, into unknown country, high hills covered in heather and gorse. The sky was starless and alive with big soft snowflakes, the first snow of winter. Alf’s words rang in my head. ‘It’s OK, puss.’
It wasn’t OK. It wasn’t. It never would be.
Day after day I ran on through the snow, my paws wet and icy cold. Hunger ached in my belly. Food was hard to find … the mice were tucked up sensibly under the ground, and the birds I stalked saw me too easily, a black cat against the snow. I was getting even thinner and weaker.
When I reached the metal tower, I was exhausted. Its winking light had guided me on starless nights and cloudy days. How long since I’d eaten? I didn’t know, couldn’t remember, and didn’t actually care.
The snow had made a thick crust over the gorse and heather, like a roof. Once I found a way in, there was a different world, a twilight of roots and dry branches, dimly lit under the crystal covering of snow. It was surprisingly warm and spacious, and lots of creatures were getting on with their lives in there: mice, slow-worms and hedgehogs. Grateful for such perfect shelter, I stayed under there for days. Long days when I didn’t see the sky, but if I listened I could hear the snowflakes softly landing on the canopy, making it thicker and thicker. I knew when the sun was shining by the shafts of yellow light beaming through cracks. It tempted me out.
The morning was icy blue and clear, a bitter wind singing through the tall tower. I found shelter under an overhanging clump of bracken, a dry haven the snow hadn’t reached. I dozed and slept through the morning, aware that sleep was not restoring me. I needed food.
After the experience with Alf, I’d chosen to avoid villages, and stay in the open countryside. But now, hunger drove me down over the crisp snow to a row of houses. I mustn’t get caught. I waited until dark, then raided two of the cat flaps, hungrily eating what those lucky cats had left, mostly cheap fishy stuff and hard little rings of dried cat food which took too long to eat when I was thieving.
I felt better, but missed being able to sit and have a leisurely wash in a warm place.
I inspected my paws which were sore from the wedges of hard snow stuck between the pads. Sitting under the heather I managed to wash my face, but trying to clean my thick fur was impossible, and the hairballs made me sick. I felt like giving up. It would have been so easy to turn up on a friendly doorstep with my tail up, and get invited in to sit by a warming fire.
At noon that day, I tried to talk to Vati.‘I’m not far away, but it’s so hard. I’m cold and hungry, and my fur is in a mess. Couldn’t you come to meet me?’ I asked. Silence. The black, haunted eyes looked blankly into my soul. Nothing had changed. ‘Why can’t I reach you?’ I sent the question, but it hung in the air unanswered.
And then, white as snow, the Spirit Lion padded back into my life. This time he didn’t lie down and wrap me in his love. He simply asked me to follow him through the snow. I trotted after him, focusing on his shining light, and he took me to a ridge where the snowdrifts twinkled in the sun.
‘Look, Timba,’ he said. ‘You’re nearly there.’
I sat beside him, gazing at the land below the hills, and my heart leapt when I saw that it was green. Green like summer. There was no snow down there!
Eagerly I ran to sit between his paws, but he wouldn’t let me rest. ‘Look for the stone tower,’ he said, and immediately I saw it, far in the distance, floating like an island in the hazy landscape. My pads tingled. That same sacred energy, deep in the earth, was there, even in the snow. It cut through the land like a silver sword, and rightat the end I could see Vati, sitting in his barrel … waiting for me, his eyes just a breath away from a sparkle.
‘You must go now,’ the Spirit Lion said. ‘More snow is coming, thick snow that will cover the green earth for many weeks. You are weak, Timba. Go now … NOW … while you still have strength.’