Ginger Tales: “I don’t like this guy”

You may think the cat in the above photograph is cute or whatever, I think he is plain mean.

We were friends till about a year ago, and very good friends that too – we’ve grown up together. We played ‘catching-cook’ in the Champaklal Building compound, raced up trees and even shared scraps. But my mother always warned me that two male cats can never be friends and one day this friendship would come to an end. I always laughed back at her.

But she was right. One not-so-fine day all this came to a grinding halt, when a beautiful feline visited the building next to Champaklal.

We both saw her and stepped forward to make our introductions but my friend who calls himself Cheetah (because he think he looks like one) turned to me and said: “See I am the better looking of the two of us. It is best you back-off.”

The words pierced through my skull as if a thousand bells tolled at the same time. I stepped back. Cheetah went ahead and I walked back to our hide-out under the Banyan tree.

I dozed off and it was some 9.00 pm when I awoke. Cheetah was nowhere in sight. It was dinner time and since Cheetah and I always went on a food- hunt together, I waited for him. An hour passed but still no sign.

Just then, Benji, the fat Labrador who lives down the road walked by. I asked him whether he had seen Cheetah and he said he had, with a bitch and “they were having a good time together.”

I slipped under a car and decided to wait for Cheetah. I dozed off again, this time in hunger. Cheetah came in at about 4.00 am. I was relieved and told him that we had to hurry with our food search since it was time for the garbage van to come along to empty the garbage cans. Cheetah said he had eaten with ‘her’ and he just wanted to sleep it out.

Cheetah woke around 9.00am. I told him I had not eaten but we could still start playing if he wanted. He was not interested. “I have a date today as well, so it would be good if you find our own food.”

Cheetah walked away from me. After a few steps, he turned around and said: “You have to stay away from all the female cats in this locality. You also have to stay away from the food. The garbage cans here belong to me, go somewhere else and find food.”

I was knocked for a six. My mother’s words had come true.

Today, Cheetah considers me enemy and attacks me at the slightest of instance, though I do not go after his women, or food. Every few days I am bruised. This time my paw is swollen. Cheetah likes to feel king. My time will come too.