if we do that, we’re going to have all these dead cats all over the neighborhood. There’s too many. If we were just talking one or two, fine, but this is a whole cat colony.”
“You wanted to finish the demo by the end of June. That don’t give us a lot of time to get rid of them.”
“I know.”
“Look, see the bowls? Somebody’s actually been feeding the damn things.”
The lights dipped, joining together in a burning spot of brightness on the floor just inside the hole.
“Well that’s just great. What the hell is wrong with people?”
“You want me to try to find out who it is?”
“Nah. The problem goes away when the cats do. I’ll call somebody.”
The probing lights flickered around one last time, and then winked out. I heard dirt moving and distinct, heavy footfalls, so much louder than the quiet steps of the cats. Slowly, the presence of the new creatures faded from the hole, and gradually the kittens resumed their play, happy again. I nursed alongside my siblings, then went to see Mother Cat’s kitties. As usual, when the daylight coming through the square hole dimmed, the adult cats streamed out, and during the night I would hear them return and sometimes smell the blood of the small kill they were bringing back to their respective broods.
When Mother hunted, she went no farther than the big bowls of dry food that were set just inside the square hole. I could smell the meal on her breath and it was fish and plants and meats, and I began to wonder what it would taste like.
Whatever had happened to cause the panic was over.
* * *
I was playing with Mother Cat’s relentless kittens when our world shattered. This time the light wasn’t a single shaft, it was a blazing explosion, turning everything bright.
The cats scattered in terror. I froze, unsure what I should do.
“Get the nets ready; when they run they’re going to do it all at once!”
A sound from outside of the hole. “We’re ready!”
Three large beings wriggled in behind the light. They were the first humans I had ever seen, but I had smelled others, I now realized—I just had not been able to visualize what they looked like. Something deep inside of me sparked a recognition—I felt strangely drawn to them, wanting to run to them as they crawled forward into the den. Yet the alarm crackling in the frenzied cats froze me in place.
“Got one!”
A male cat hissed and screamed.
“Jesus!”
“Watch it, a couple just escaped!”
“Well, hell!” came the response from outside.
I was separated from my mother and tried to sort out her scent from among the cats, and then went limp when I felt the sharp teeth on the nape of my neck. Mother Cat dragged me back, deep into the shadows, to a place where a large crack split the stone wall. She squeezed me through the crack into a small, tight space and set me down with her kittens, curling up with us. The cats were utterly silent, following Mother Cat’s lead. I lay with them in the darkness and listened to the humans call to each other.
“There’s also a litter of puppies here!”
“Are you kidding me? Hey, get that one!”
“Jesus, they’re fast.”
“Come on, kitty-kitty, we won’t hurt you.”
“There’s the mother dog.”
“Thing is terrified. Watch it don’t bite you.”
“It’s okay. You’ll be okay, girl. Come on.”
“Gunter didn’t say anything about dogs.”
“He didn’t say there would be so many frigging cats, either.”
“Hey, you guys catching them in the nets out there?”
“This is hard as hell to do!” someone shouted from outside.
“Come on, doggie. Damn! Watch it! Here comes the mother dog!”
“Jesus! Okay, we got the dog!” called the outside voice.
“Here puppy, here puppy. They’re so little!”
“And easier than the damn cats, that’s for sure.”
We heard these noises without comprehension as to what they might mean. Some light made its way into our space behind the wall, leaking in through the crack, but the human smells did not come any closer to our hiding place. The mingle of fear and feline on the air gradually faded, as did the sounds.
Eventually, I slept.
* * *
When I awoke, my mother was gone. My brothers and sisters were gone. The depression in the earth where we had been born and had laid nursing still smelled of our family, but the empty, vacant sense that overcame me when I sniffed for Mother brought a whimper from me, a sob in my throat I couldn’t quiet.