I was only a newborn but I remember the story well, as she licked my face clean and nudged me close to her.
I dreamed of him and I wondered why he left us. I had other siblings. There were four of us. I was young but I could see the hardship of feeding us was taking its toll on mom. Listening to the mews and meows from the others stressed me,
so I refused my meager share that mom brought home. I was only a burden. I struck out on my own.
Suddenly from nowhere, a big tom appeared and planted his paws in my path. His tail straight, his fur spiked. He roared in my face. His green eyes glowed.
The scent of her pulled me back to reality. She chirped again. I devoured the cheese and chunks of fish, which clung to the waxed paper dinner plate.
I broke the rules that night. I followed Petunia home. I decided to trust my instincts –– to trust her. Even when all society’s rules –– the ones which labeled me as a bastard and a no-good loser ––the warnings that reminded everyone not to trust anyone , to be afraid, and be practical, rang in my ears –– I spat in the world’s face.
I quit doubting myself. I accepted my past. And against all odds, I came to have faith that the events, the people and she-cats or tom-cats who came into my life were necessary and like scented trails for me to follow..