Family

 

by LC Simpson (Felioness)
felioness2@comcast.net

 

It was a lazy afternoon. Exceptionally hot and humid, as southern summer afternoons usually are, I sought to escape the heat of the day in the shade of the tall pines at the edge of the yard. Settling into my favorite spot, I awaited the gentle breeze that made the trees whisper and lifted the hair from the back of my neck.

The children were fed and napping peacefully. I planned to take advantage of the short respite and close my eyes for a few moments. Life was good. We had a good home, my children were well fed and well behaved, and the future looked bright.

We were living on a farm – a chicken farm. All the fresh eggs we could eat. No wonder the children were so healthy. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, they greeted each morning with the wide-eyed wonder of innocence. They were adventurous, wanting to explore every nook and cranny, inside and out. At this rate they would be the smartest children around. I was proud.

With my eyes closed, I concentrated on the scents and smells that identified my surroundings as easily as my eyesight would have done. The aroma of pine was mixed with the sweet smell of impending rain. We would have a summer shower before the day was through. From the kitchen, I could smell chicken frying. A light floral scent was nearly overpowered by the rich odor of the chicken houses at the back of the property.

I listened – the sounds of the afternoon combined with the smells, painting a complete picture of life in this wonderful place. Pine needles softly swooshing in the breeze, the sizzling of the chicken in the pan, the random clucking of the live chickens in their sturdy houses. But most comforting of all was the sound of my children gently purring in their sleep.

I came here as a child myself. Small and frightened, I found gentle hands, good food and safety. As I grew, I learned about the strange creatures that were to make up my extended family. It took awhile, but eventually I figured out that the largest creatures were parents, just as I had a mother and am now a mother myself.

There were smaller creatures too, children just like me. Although they seemed huge, they were inexperienced and needed to learn, just as I was in my youth. And they quickly learned to be gentle with me as I learned that my claws could rend their tender pink flesh.

Not that I ever clawed them intentionally. Sometimes my nails lashed out in pure self defense if they were playing too rough, other times, I so lost myself in our games that I forgot that we were merely playing. Regardless, we always seemed to forgive each other and our games ended in friendly exhaustion and mindless snuggling.

The alpha female was quite pretty for a creature of her kind. She was slender with dark fur on her head and moss green eyes. Those eyes were more than just pretty; they were sharp and watchful – always aware of her children and what they were doing. She was a good mother and I emulated her with my own children.

Her children were as different as three children could be. The oldest was a male. In front of others, he was cocky and self assured – always enjoying a good joke. But when he thought that no one was looking, he had the gentlest hands I’ve ever felt. He was patient with the youngest child too, taking time to show her how to carry me without hurting me.

This littlest one was full of energy and excitement. She made such sweet sounds when she was happy and it seemed that she was happiest when petting me or my children. She was soft and, after a few lessons from her brother, infinitely gentle.

The middle child was also a girl. Quiet and thoughtful, she was very pretty – a bit of a dreamer with fair hair and blue eyes like mine. All in all, it was a litter to be proud of.

Her mate, the alpha male, spent most of his time hunting. He worked hard to feed his family and I often wondered at his devotion. This kind of behavior was unheard of in the males of my species. I didn’t know him well since he was often away from home, but I respected his hunting skills.

Hunting was the one thing besides parenting that I had in common with these strange, but wonderful, creatures. I too was a hunter. You’d never know it to see me lying here in the shade, but in the twilight times – dawn and dusk – I was a rodent’s worst nightmare. I was rather proud of my hunting ability as I had learned it all on my own with no elders of my own kind to teach me. It was important to me to contribute to feeding this odd family of mine. Often I would leave my latest catch at the steps to the house for the alpha female to find. She always seemed pleased by this, but she never took my kills inside to add to the family fare. After praising me, she would leave my offerings to be shared between me and my latest litter. This used to upset me, but I finally realized that she was more pleased to be rid of the rodents than to eat them and this was enough for me.

Deep in thought, I nearly missed the sound of the door to the house opening, but the footsteps on the stairs and the aroma of food caused my eyes to blink open, focusing on the alpha female as she moved toward the tall trees. She was taking “garbage” into the woods. I never understood why she took perfectly good food into the forest and left it there on the big mound. To this day I don’t know if she was making an offering to the Earth Goddess or simply wanted to feed the animals of the forest. Either way, the woods were a dangerous place and I never let her venture there alone.

My afternoon nap interrupted, I stood and stretched, glancing over at my children to make sure they were still sleeping, then followed her into the cool depths of the trees. As we moved deeper into the forest, I slipped past her legs and loped out in front. What good would I be as a protector if I let her go ahead of me?

We continued on our way, me trotting in front, eyes and ears searching for anything that would alert me to danger. It was a short walk, one that I always enjoyed. Here in the forest, the smells of the earth were richer and more intense. My ears were perked, listening for any sound that might warn of another animal bent on mischief.

Although the mound was not that far from the edge of the wood, the path was narrow and winding. I padded stealthily around each corner, alert to anything out of the ordinary. We made this trip nearly every day and never had I encountered anything that might harm us – until today.

As I rounded the last bend in the path I detected a rhythmic tapping, like something was beating the dry, dead leaves. For a moment I paused, searching my memory for similar sounds. It took only a few seconds before I knew what it was and then I knew that we faced a very real danger. I had to do something quickly or else the alpha female would round the corner and step right into it. That I could not allow to happen, no matter what the cost.

Slowing my step, I approached the source of the sound. There, coiled tightly in the dead leaves and pine needles, was a huge snake.

I hissed.

He hissed.

I rose up on my haunches and starred intently into his dark glistening eyes.

He rose up as if to strike at me, his cruel sharp fangs bared, and returned my stare.

The battle was on.

Now the alpha female did not have as good hearing as those of my kind, but she did hear me hiss and the answering hiss of the snake. She slowed her steps, but continued to move forward until she could see both of us reared up in the center of the path, our eyes never moving from one another.

She hesitated only a moment, then turned back toward the house and hurried away. I nearly sighed in relief as I had succeeded in preventing her from being surprised and hurt by the snake. Now I only had to figure out how I was going to get out of this mess. If I took my eyes from the snake or made a move of any kind, he would be on me in an instant.

I racked my brain for a solution to my dilemma, finally realizing the nature of the trap I had stepped into in my haste to save the alpha female. Not that I would have done any differently if I’d taken the time to think it through. I knew that the alpha female would raise my children should anything happen to me. After all, she raised me and I turned out fine. I, on the other hand, would not be able to raise her children if she should not return from the forest. Ultimately, she was more important to the family than I.

So I settled in to wait for the inevitable. Maybe there was a chance. Maybe the snake would tire before I did. I had to concentrate not to fall prey to the hypnotic stare and the steady rattle of the snake’s tail against the pine needles on the forest floor. How long could I resist? How long would my legs sustain me? How long would I be able to maintain my balance?

Time passed slowly, seconds seemed like hours as I struggled not to move so much as a whisker. Many thoughts ran through my head as I waited. I remembered the soft strokes and gentle scratchings I had received from her children, the taste of eggs fresh from the shell, the joy of birthing my litters and watching my children grow strong and healthy. Yes, I had made the right decision. Because of these creatures, my life had been good and so would those of my latest litter. The alpha female would see to that. I owed her this and much more.

Just as I thought I could not last a moment longer, I heard footsteps in the distance. Someone was coming up the path from the house behind me and they were moving fast. Two sets of footsteps approached! I could not turn my head to look, but I desperately hoped that is was not her children. If they ran into the clearing, it would all be over too quickly for me to do anything about it. I could only hope that I would be the only one to suffer the deadly bite of the snake.

The footsteps came closer, then slowed, moving more quietly than before. I almost sighed in relief. If it was the children, at least this would give me time to act. I focused again on the shimmering eyes and forked tongue facing me, preparing for the worst. It had been a good life.

A long dark shadow fell across both me and the snake, blocking the dappled sunshine that slipped between the tree branches into the forest. Confused, I wanted to turn and look at the source of the shadow, but did not dare to move. I heard the sound of metal scraping against metal and then a loud crack, like a tree branch breaking in a storm.

I jumped. I could not help myself. When I realized what I had done, I was certain that I would soon feel the sharp fangs of the snake and be beyond help. I could only hope that it would be quick and painless. As my paws hit the forest floor, I saw the snake’s body fly backwards toward the foot of the mound. It landed with a dull thud and did not move again. Dark liquid flowed from an opening in his head that had not been there a moment before.

From behind me I heard the voices of my beloved alpha female and her mate, the hunter. I turned and saw them both standing there looking at me, talking to me. The alpha male knelt down and beckoned me with his hand. When I came within reach, he scratched my head lovingly and spoke soft words, thanking me for saving his mate. I pushed my head against his hand, trying to express my own thanks that he had come to save me, that they had not abandoned me to my fate. As this rare moment of communion between me and the male progressed, I began to purr deeply, giving thanks to the Earth Goddess for my family.

The alpha female spoke to me too. Although she did not touch me, she had never touched me, she was smiling and her eyes appeared curiously wet. After a moment, she looked up and moved closer to the mound.

She was carrying a long stick with a row of sharp prongs at the end. She took the long metal thing that the male was holding, exchanged it for her stick, then stepped aside. The male slipped the wide metal end of the stick under the snake’s body, hooking it with the prongs. Then we turned toward the house and left the forest, the alpha male leading the way.

When we got back to the house, all of the children, mine and hers, came to see what the alpha male had killed. Everyone ohhed and ahhed over it.

Cries of “Look how long is!” and “Count the rattles!” filled the air. My children sniffed and slapped at the snake with their tiny paws. I sat quietly at the edge of the group, starring contentedly at my family. They were making a fuss over this rather impressive kill and all was as it should be. Exhausted, I lay down exactly where I was and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Several hours later I awoke to the sound of the alpha female approaching, calling my name.

“Here Kitty, Kitty!” she cried in a sing-song pattern. “Come get your supper.”

Ah, supper! Fresh eggs! I followed her into the smaller house in the middle of the yard. This was where I lived when it was cold or raining, where I had chosen to birth most of my litters. It was also where she took the eggs to wash them and place them carefully into funny little spiked trays that kept them neatly separated and protected their fragile shells. And this was where, each night, she would present me with several of the eggs in a metal bowl, sometimes with a little milk mixed in. My mouth watered thinking about the rich golden yolks and I trotted along behind her purring happily.

She smiled and knelt down, placing my bowl on the floor. Then she began to speak.

Now I never really learned much of their language, just a few words here and there. It was so very strange and seemed over complicated, so many different sounds to express so few needs, but I have learned to understand their tone. Her tone this night was one of affection that I had heard her use with her mate and children. I felt privileged that she was now using this tone with me.

Then wonder of wonders, she reached out and touched me. Hesitantly at first, then with more assurance, she gently rubbed the fur on the top of my head and behind my ears. I closed my eyes in ecstasy, enjoying this rare pleasure.

Then she said something else and paused petting me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small package wrapped in paper. I sniffed and immediately knew what she had brought – chicken! She unwrapped the package and laid it on the ground next to my bowl of eggs. On it lay a rather large pile of tender, moist chicken. My mouth watered as I sniffed appreciatively and took my first bite.

Mmmmm…

I hadn’t realized just how hungry I was until I took that bite. I am not sure if it was real hunger from the exertions of the hunt or the rare communion with the alpha female that made this meal taste so good, but it was the best meal of my life, maybe even all nine of them. The alpha female watched while I ate, then slipped quietly from the room before I finished. I ate all of the chicken and most of the eggs before my belly signaled that I was full.

Later that evening, as I sat under the stars cleaning my paws, I thought back on the events of the day and felt glad. I had done my best to protect my family and they, in turn, had protected me. And best of all, the alpha female was pleased with me.