‘They took my claws away,’ he said, and flexed his toes so that I could understand. His magnificent claws had gone. Just gone! And to Vati it felt as if his whole life had been ruined. He was no longer joyful and free to play and climb. He couldn’t defend himself. And he felt violated.
No wonder I had sensed that Vati was willing himself to die.
‘Why?’ I asked, devastated.
‘Heidi pulled my tail, really hard,’ he said. ‘It hurt all along my spine, and she wouldn’t stop it, so I scratched her. Then Lisa got the broom and chased me outside, and the next day when I was eating my breakfast, she grabbed me and put me in the cat cage. She took me to the vet and told him she wanted me de-clawed. Rick refused to do it, so she drove me to another vet and he did it … put me to sleep, and when I woke up my front paws were burning with pain. I couldn’t walk, and I couldn’t balance. I couldn’t believe what they’d done to me.’
‘That’s terrible,’ I said, and felt his pain intensely in my own paws, and in my heart.
‘And it’s for ever,’ Vati said.
I felt powerless and angry. Was this what the Spirit Lion had felt? Shocked beyond words at the cruelty imposed by humans. I seriously considered taking Vati off into the wild. We would travel on the golden road and live in the forest, in secret, away from humans, for the rest of our lives. I pledged never to leave my brother again.
The instant I thought about him, the Spirit Lion appeared. Vati’s eyes grew luminous and round and his aura brightened around his sleek fur. We were lying side by side, and the lion cupped us both in velvet paws. A lion purrs differently to a cat, only on the out-breath, but the purr is loud, like a drum roll. We snuggled together in the bliss of his light. I sensed that Vati had not purred since losing his claws, but he did now, and hearing his economical little purr blending with my loud one was calming and uplifting.
‘You are not powerless, Timba,’ breathed the Spirit Lion, ‘because you can love, and it’s never too late for love.’ He looked at Vati tenderly. ‘You two cats have a destiny. You must stay together now, but not in the wild. Vati needs care. He can’t get his claws back, but he can learn to live again with your encouragement, Timba … something you’re so good at.’
I glowed with joy. To be praised at such a time was brilliant.
‘Both you cats can teach and inspire,’ added the Spirit Lion, and he showed me Leroy who was far away in South Wales, awake and at the window watching that same yellow moon on the snow. ‘Humans cannot teach Leroy. He has encrypted knowledge and courage to follow his dreams. He needs love inabundance, for he has chosen a lonely path. Every day of his life he faces bullying and hostility from those who seek to disempower him, yet he keeps a cheerful heart.’
‘So what can we teach him?’ I asked.
‘Unconditional love. Always and for ever. And from the source, all good intentions flow. Power and courage and understanding. Unconditional love is the beginning of healing and the gateway to true knowledge.’
The Spirit Lion gave a huge sigh.‘Remind him … and Angie … to have fun, for humour is the bridge over troubled waters.’
I felt him vanishing into the crystal silence of the snow.‘Stay together,’ he whispered, and left us, curled close in Vati’s corner of the sofa.
At first light, Lisa tiptoed downstairs and threw me a look of pure hatred. She came towards me, her hands engulfed in a pair of yellow rubber gloves. Then she changed her mind, and went into the kitchen. She slammed the fridge closed, took a roll of sticky tape from a drawer and taped the cat flap shut! She opened the door to the garden and cold air came in like smoke.
With her hands spread wide she approached me again. She was tense, and breathing fast, her eyes watching me. I got it. Lisa was going to grab me with those horrible yellow gloves, and chuck me out in the snow.
Vati sensed it too. He looked at Lisa and did the extended-meow. It was an appeal, straight from the heart.‘Don’t take my brother away,’ but Lisa kept coming. I dug myself in, pressed against the back of the sofa.
She grabbed me, but I hung on, hooking my claws into the upholstery. She pulled and pulled, but I resisted. She was panting now.‘Come on … come on. You are going OUT,’ she muttered, and I did something I’d never done before. I growled at her like a dog, and glared into her frustrated eyes. Vati joined in, growling and making a terrible fish face.
‘You stubborn old bugger,’ she ranted, and let me go. She was shaking all over. She went back into the kitchen, tore the tape off the cat flap and flung the yellow rubber gloves into a cupboard.
Vati and I looked at each other triumphantly. Round one … to Timba and Vati!
Chapter Seventeen
HEALING THE HURT
‘Why do people keep calling me old?’ I asked Vati. ‘I’m a young cat.’
‘It’s your fur,’ he said tactfully. ‘It needs a good sort-out.’