When I was a little girl I loved reading the first book my mother wrote which was for a children’s literature class her senior year of college. It was called Toasty, the Kitten with the Very Bushy Tail and was about a little gold cat that was teased by the other kittens until he eventually ran away and joined the circus. It had a happy ending but sadly, was never published, although it was certainly worthy of an audience. (And, it still is!) My mother’s love for animals was passed down to me and my girls and, while I love them all, I have a special affinity for cats. This latest post from my mother, Harriet Posnak Lesser, tugs at my heart. I think it will do the same to you. Enjoy and share it with the cat people and all the animal lovers in your life.

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Cats

The First Cat by Harriet Posnak Lesser

Did you ever wonder about the Very First Cat?  Where he came from? How he looked? Scientists believe he was an animal called Miacis, a weasel-like quadruped that appeared on earth more than 40 million years ago.  Quite an impressive pedigree, but I prefer my own version of the story:

The Very First Cat may indeed date back 40 million years, but he didn’t look like a weasel.  His name could have been Miacis, but it was more likely Meowcis, an unproven but “sound” theory. He was born into a litter of saber-toothed tigers that lived in the forest primeval.  At first, he looked exactly like his brothers and sisters; but it soon became obvious that he was different. He was smaller and softer with fluffy fur and a little pink tongue. His siblings shunned him. He was too small to wrestle with.  He was a terrible hunter and preferred lying in the sun to chasing huge creatures with ridged backs and small brains.  Strangest of all, he never got his stripes or his large curved upper canines, the status symbols of the true saber-tooth.

His mother loved him wildly.  (How else would a saber-toothed mother love?)  She doted on her littlest baby, the runt of the litter, the one who needed her most.  She fed him after the other cats were asleep, knowing they had eaten all the food, leaving him nothing. She cuddled him between her paws, but was careful not to lick him, for fear that her rough tongue might hurt his delicate skin.

One day, she overheard the others plotting against Meowcis.  Although it broke her heart, she knew what must be done. She told Meowcis he had to leave the lair and fend for himself in the forest primeval.   She explained it was his only chance for survival.

Her eyes filled with tears as he padded away on his little cat feet.  He understood why he had to go.  His true fate waited beyond the saber-tooth lair.

Heeding the warnings of his mother, the Very First Cat traveled only at night.  The predators he feared prowled in the daytime and slept after dark. It was a lesson he would store in his mind’s history, a history he was creating for those who would come after. He hunted at sunup when the smaller creatures awoke from their sleep and the fish were active.  His ears became keener, his eyes and claws grew sharper. He was surprised to learn that he could be quick, merciless and deadly.  There was no choice. Survival was all important.

After he ate, he covered himself with leaves and pine needles, and then he slept. How he treasured the release of sleep.  The world was cruel and demanding. Sometimes, when he was very tired, he thought he would die of loneliness.  There was no warmth in his life, no patch of sun, no mother’s fur to snuggle against.   Still he went on.  As the months passed, the Very First Cat became stronger and more determined.  He learned to be self-sufficient and fiercely independent.  And those traits, as well, were stored in his evolving history.

The rustling sound alerted him, but it was the smell that awakened him on that special morning.  He had never known anything like it. The scent was strong, but not unpleasant.  Indulging his persistent curiosity, Meowcis peered through the leaves — and found himself staring at the strangest animal!  It stood upright on two hind legs, while the front legs tended a bright light that moved, crackled and sparked.

As the Very First Cat watched, the creature picked up a fish, put it on a stick and held it over the light.  The smell reminded Meowcis how hungry he was.  He edged closer, too close, and was suddenly scooped up by a smaller version of the monster.  It held him up in the air and made a loud strange sound.

The Very First Cat feared he was doomed.  All he had endured, all he had learned was about to be lost forever. The mind history he had so carefully built would die with him.  He felt himself being lowered toward the crackling light.  He closed his eyes — and when he opened them, he was sitting alongside the light, not in it, and the smaller  creature was offering him a piece of fish.

Meowcis soon learned to trust the odd beings.  They fed him, gave him acorns to play with and stroked his soft fur, much as his mother had done.  At times he was so happy that he felt a loud whirring inside.  It was a new and strange sound, but it seemed to please his friends.  Not that he really cared about pleasing them.

For the first time since he’d left the saber-tooth lair, Meowcis felt safe. Food was plentiful and he no longer had to hunt or fish.  He still enjoyed searching the woods for small animals, however.  Old habits die hard.

Life was good. He spent long hours curled up near the light, waiting for he knew not what.  He had so many questions.  Why was he born?  What was he supposed to do with the history he created? His questions would soon be answered.  Deep in the forest primeval, the Very Second Cat was beginning its odyssey.  And in a little while, she would be joining him by the light.

©2002HARRIET LESSER

Ed Note: The kitty in the photo above was trapped and neutered and is currently living in my house with his brother. Both boys are almost fully socialized and are ready to go to their forever homes. Another happy ending!

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE:

An Open Letter to Pets Everywhere by Harriet Posnak Lesser

 Warm Weather Pet Safety Tips

Cat Lady Chronicles by Diane Lovejoy – My Review 

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