BILLO - Our Street Cat

I never did like her. How could I when I knew it had come strolling from around many streets and was soiling my home. But I couldn’t throw her out of my home. Everyone else in my home – mom, dad, sisters – doted on her.

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They fed her milk, occasional pieces of meat and even sweets. After enjoying a hearty meal, she would take a nap too under the couch or wherever she pleased. When I returned from office at the end of the day, I least expected to see the dirty cat. But she was right there everyday. It seemed like she was enjoying my discomfort.

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I don’t remember when or from where exactly she came in our lives. She just walked in casually and occupied an indispensable place.

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I would take a shower and with a cup of tea would sit before the idiot box to enjoy my quiet evening. But how could that be? The cat will be there right by my side. She too will watch the programmes along with producing appreciative sounds. She would look at me too occasionally. It would seem she was seeking my approval.

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But it would all raise my ire. I would raise my voice and scold her to go away. She will make those kiddish meow sounds that would melt anyone’s heart but certainly not mine. I failed to understand why she would want to sit next to me when I least wanted her to. I couldn’t bear the sight of her. I could smell the stink although none in my home found her dirty.

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At times due to my insensitivity and inattentiveness, she would growl and show her unhappiness. Even anger too. She would have pawed me if I had angered her more. But she didn’t. I knew if she tried to paw me that would be the end of her visits to my home. She better be careful.

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When she found I was not looking at her, she would try to seek my attention. Once she put her paw on my lap. I shrieked loudly and stood up. She was so scared that she ran away. I howled and howled. It was an evening I will never forget. I decided I had had enough. I didn’t want her any more in home.

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She could go to any of my neighbors’ home. She of course did that everyday. But that was not enough. A visit to our home was necessary. My family members considered a part of our family. I felt she didn’t exist. I strictly told my mom that when I returned from office, I didn’t wish to see her around.

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Mom did agree. Initially things worked out my way. I didn’t see her in the evenings. But that was not to be. One fine evening she was right there beside the couch. I wanted to shout. I wanted to throw her away. I picked her up. But what was this? There was a huge bandage on her right foot.

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Mom informed a passing car had run over her leg. In that condition too she limped and came over to our home. Dad immediately took her to a vet. She was crying from pain. Dad was consoling her. Mom was crying and feeding her hot milk. My sisters too were concerned. The home was suddenly quiet as if (God forbid) someone had died.

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She was almost lifeless in my hands. She was almost gone. Something shook within me. I didn’t want her gone. This was the first time I took a close look at her. She was almost child like. No, she was a child. Her condition was delicate. And she opened her eyes. She was looking right into mine. She was still seeking my approval.

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I felt my eyes go wet. A tear trickled down unconsciously. I held her close to my bosom. Suddenly her being dirty didn’t matter. She coming from the streets didn’t matter. I was feeling a live body that felt closer to my own. She had touched my heart. Tears were flowing freely now. How could I be so heartless till now?

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I tenderly felt her leg. She gave a low cry of pain. My heart went all out to her. I gently placed her on the floor. I went to the kitchen. Crying, I heated the milk and added turmeric to it. I poured the milk in her bowl and took it to the living room. She was too weak even to sit straight.

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I lifted her up carefully and showed her the bowl. She just meowed. I prodded her again. At my insistence, she dipped her face in the bowl. And when she lifted her face, her whiskers were covered with milk. She made a sight. Despite crying I laughed out loud.

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She meowed again. She was happy to see me laughing. The ice was broken. I forgot all about my aloofness. I forgot the idiot box. The idiot (in me) had become humane. I could almost feel her pain. I told dad she will stay in our home till she completely recuperated. Dad couldn’t agree more.

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For a few days, she lied limpless on the floor. It was a heartening sight. I would occasionally call from the office to enquire about her progress. I bought her a few toys to play with. I wanted her to have the best, be it food or play things. But she felt happy sitting besides me in the evenings. After all, after eating and playing, being entertained too was important.

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She felt comfortable sleeping on the floor. I wouldn’t have minded offering her my bed. Anything for her. I remembered my cruel behavior towards her. How could I be so insensitive? But then I had come to my senses. And that was a new beginning for me.

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I named her Billo. Billo my Billi. She had taught me to be humane. She had brought out the feelings that I never knew existed.

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We are the best of friends now. I look forward to coming home in the evening. I know a friend is looking forward for me to return. She is more than a family. In fact, a member has been added to my family.

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A cat could mean so much to me; I would have cringed at this thought in the past. But then she is an integral part of my life now. And I like that.