By David Solomon
The Coronavirus has permeated and affected all human activity that forms a part of our daily routine, even animals are not like their usual selves anymore. With their sixth sense, it’s easy for these creatures to tell that all’s not well. I wonder what they’d say if they could only talk. It is more than certain they’d blame us totally for the mess the world is in today. Ah, well! Let’s leave it at that. But even if animals can’t talk they do know how to communicate with you through their actions; one way or another. Perhaps I ought to tell you about the pets I used to have in Muscat.
There were about 3-4 cats that lived in my back garden. A canopy of shade from tamarind and neem trees made the garden a cool and relaxing place for the cats to lounge, frisk or gambol about and get up to all their cat antics, or otherwise, just laze in the sun.
While the others were a casual, indifferent lot, there was one who had a rather curious way of showing how much she loved me. Annie, yes that’s her name, was a beautiful creature, with a grey striped, fluffy coat.
When she did what she did the very first time, I couldn’t tell at first what her real intentions actually were, so I scolded her in a tone of mock severity. Hurt by this rejection of her present, she went and sulked in the far corner of the garden.
But the next day she brought me another present just like the first one and laid it at my feet. I noticed it was a sparrow, more stunned and scared than hurt. But just to be on the safe side, the poor thing kept its eyes closed and stuck its feet in the air, above its chest, trying to pretend as hard as it could, that it was already dead.
Annie was offering me a live sparrow as a token of her friendship. She had a knack for catching a sparrow and then holding it ever so gently in her mouth before bringing it to me. And the look in her eyes seemed to say: “This is a special treat I’ve brought just for you”. After that she’d retreat to her special corner, the stunned sparrow would recover after I’d given it a quick bath, and quickly fly away to the safety of a high bough.
Once I’d done this a couple of times, Annie seemed to get my message and stopped giving me her love presents.
Second-hand cat
I must confess, I wasn’t Annie’s original owner. In the beginning, she belonged to Georgina Benison, a music teacher and a dear friend. One year, before leaving for the summer for Norwich, England, she decided to leave Annie in my care. At that time she was just a 6-7-month-old frisky kitten.
“I won’t be gone long, David”, said Georgina. “Not more than three months at the most; will be back in September. I’m not sure how my other five cats, all fully grown, will treat her in my absence; I fear for her safety”.
“I know she’ll be safe and well-taken care of at your place”, she remarked. And that’s how Annie became a permanent member of my house.
Since I lived all by myself, Annie had the full run of the house. Sometimes she’d give me the impression that she’s actually the mistress of the house and I’m just a house guest.
For the most part of the day she loved to frisk and frolic in the sun, out in my back garden, chasing the butterflies or the bumblebees, or scramble up a tamarind tree in one corner of the garden, only to run down in the very next instant.
When Georgina came back, Annie showed no inclination to go back to her old home.
“Looks like she’s grown to like you very much”, remarked Georgina. “I don’t mind if she wants to stay on at your place; she’ll never be far away from me because I’ll always be dropping by every now and then to give her a lookup.
Annie just gave her former mistress a dreamy look, wrapped herself around her legs and purred happily.
(For over four decades, David Solomon’s insightful stories about people, places, animals –in fact almost anything and everything in India and abroad – as a journalist and traveller, continue to engross, thrill and delight people like sparkling wine.)