A cloud blew over the sun, the garden darkened and rain spattered down, splashing the leaves with drops. It dripped through cracks in the decking and I shrank back against the wall, feeling worse.
The storm was soon over and the sun shone out again, making everything glisten, and tempting me out to feel it on my fur. I sat on the path and stared out at a bright raindrop hanging from a leaf. The sunlight was turning it into a blazing star, so bright I squinted my eyes to look at it, and it started turning pink, then gold, then blue. As I turned my head sideways, the rays of light revolved like the spokes of a wheel.
Mesmerised, I focused on the centre where the rays of pink, gold and blue converged, and with my daydream came a memory from the spirit world. That magic dot in the centre was the point of infinity. In my mind, I could go through it, into the land of spirit. Ignoring everything else around me, ignoring my hurt feelings, I concentrated on it. I zoomed in, slipped through it into a place of light.
And there, waiting for me, was my fantastic angel. The Angel of Secrets. Her colours were those of a dragonfly in the sun, her face was the happiest beaming smile, welcoming me. Just seeing her gave me courage.
‘It’s all going wrong, living with Gretel,’ I confided. ‘She’s so angry with me for being a cat.’
‘I know, I know. I see it all,’ my angel said, and she wrapped her light around me. I nestled into the sparkles, and listened.
‘It’s a time of learning,’ she explained. ‘You are a young cat with no mother to teach you. Gretel is teaching you how to live with humans. If you don’t learn this, you will suffer all your life.’
‘But why can’t she teach me nicely?’ I asked.
‘She doesn’t know how. She’s a human. She has stuff to learn too.’
‘But why am I a bad cat?’
My angel threw an extra whoosh of stars around me, warming my soul.‘You’re not a bad cat. There are no bad cats. You must forgive Gretel. She doesn’t know a better way, and she was treated unkindly by her family. When she is fierce, she is afraid.’
I cuddled into the warmth of her aura as if it were a cushion.
‘Your mother, Jessica, was a very creative cat. She did all the things you are doing now and got punished and called a demon for it. But she was loyal and courageous too.’
‘But this isn’t how my life is meant to be,’ I said. ‘I’m not meant to be with Gretel, am I? And I’m not “Fuzzball”.’ I flicked my tail in frustration.
‘You are an earth kitten. All young earthlings must go through a time of learning, and if you don’t learn, you can’t move on,’ said my angel. ‘So learn! Learn what Gretel is trying to teach you. We have work for you.’
She melted back into the light, leaving me realising I was staring at a sparkle on a raindrop. I sat thinking about how to please Gretel. Catch a mouse and present it to her? Or that robin who was tugging a worm out of the lawn. He’d make a nice gift for Gretel.
I stalked him, and pounced, but he flew up, muttering, and swore at me from the rooftop. And he’d lost his worm.
Full of energy and frustration, I rioted in the garden, rehearsing pounces and charges, and playing wildly with a soft ball Gretel had hung from a string for me. Then I heard laughter, and she came out and sat by the lily pond, watching me.
‘You must forgive Gretel,’ the angel had said, so I gave it a go, rubbing my silky fur against her legs and smiling up at her. I gazed right into her soul and saw that she did need forgiveness and lots of it. Behind that powdered exterior was a person who carried a burden and didn’t know how to let go of it.
‘Oh, Fuzzball. Come on then.’ She patted her lap and I jumped up and made a fuss of her, kissing and purring and kneading her with soft paws. ‘You’ve forgiven me,’ she said, and we were friends again. Phew!
But it didn’t end there. The same thing happened repeatedly through the autumn as I tried to understand what I did to make Gretel lose her temper and call me a demon. It came to a head just before Christmas.
I was almost fully grown but still loving to play. One dark afternoon, Gretel came home with a tree. A spiky fir tree in a red pot. I was sleepy, curled up in a chair, but I sat up to watch what she was doing. She opened a box full of shiny baubles and funny little creatures on loops of string, and she hung them all over the tree.
‘There. Our Christmas tree, Fuzzball. Isn’t it pretty?’
She switched on some lights and the tree twinkled like magic. We sat in the dark admiring it. The tree was hypnotic. I couldn’t stop looking and longing to leap up and play with all those things. There was a miniature white teddy bear with a bobble hat, there was a fat little man in a red coat and his face looked so real. It had glittery eyes. There was a skinny fairy right at the top, looking very serious. And, hey, there was a BIRD on the tree, a robin like the one in the garden. He looked at me cheekily, but was he real? I couldn’t work it out.