Анна Керн - A Paw-sible Theory

When I landed in the ferns, my natural instincts took over, and my vision immediately adjusted to the darkness of the moonless night. The gnarled branches of the live oak trees took on a menacing appearance, the lush landscaping in daytime was a jungle at night, and I was no longer a domestic house cat; I was a wild jungle cat.

Since I had prepared for the task, I wasn’t afraid, even though it was my first venture outside after dark. A firm believer in the adage, “Hope for the best, and prepare for the worst,” I had anticipated my fears; having seen raccoons in the backyard from time to time, and heard the frightening noises they made fighting each other. I was also fully aware of the stray cats that occasionally roamed the yard. But most important, I was confident of my abilities; I felt I had overcome the handicap of not having any front claws. I had sharpened my skills using my back feet for fighting by practicing on Misty. Still––I hoped I would not have to fight.

There were shadows and noises all around me as I stealthily made my way to where I thought Pooky was hiding. I recognized two sounds: the hooting of the great horned owls in the distance, and the whining of a screech owl––a tremulous descending wail coming from right above me where the bird made its home in the cavity of an old tree. Owls are nocturnal hunters and fearless in defense of their nest and it was unsettling when I looked up and she turned her head the full range of her ability. I was prepared to defend myself but sensed she was no threat, just curious.

Pooky was nearby, I sensed it; but she stayed out of sight. In fact, I knew exactly where she was and could have pounced on her at any time, but since I didn’t intend to hurt her, I didn’t want to chance her running out of the yard. I let her know that Alyx had been hurt, that she was alive but in a coma and that Ethan had been arrested for trying to kill her, and needed help to prove his innocence.

To my consternation, she stubbornly remained hidden. I sat for a long time, all the while explaining how important it was for me to know exactly what had happened Saturday morning. I let her know that the doors were open, there was food and water in the lanai if she decided to do what she knew was right. My last plea was to remind her that Alyx had saved her life and deserved her help. On that note, I cautiously headed back to the house. The moon continued to hide but it didn’t matter, I could see just as well without the moonlight.

It felt good to be outside; the freedom was exhilarating. My senses heightened; I stopped abruptly and crouched to leap. Someone else had entered the yard––several others, in fact.

Suddenly, a scruffy, gray cat brazenly stepped directly in my path, making loud, guttural, screeching noises as if I was the one trespassing rather than the other way around.

I immediately recognized him as the bully often seen hanging around the yard when no one was home. I answered with a few choice words of my own and stood my ground––fur puffed up, ears back, crouched low to the ground, and ready to spring, if necessary.

Engaged in a stare-down match with the stray, I heard rustling noises in the bushes and caught flashes of fur, alerting me to the stray’s friends gathering around for the fight. At the same time, there was another sound behind and to my left, between me and the other cats. In my peripheral vision, I saw Pooky surreptitiously making her way towards me. I let out a low growl, warning her to stay out of it. To my right, I heard Misty pawing at the screen, itching to get out. I had enough to worry about and hoped they would both stay put.

Clearly aware of my handicap, I knew I had to act quickly. Letting out a surprisingly loud screech, I leaped into action, my clawless paws smacking the gray cat into confusion. I pounced like a football player defending the last touchdown and quickly had the cat pinned down on its back. Having no claws, I had to rely on teeth and back legs, biting the cat’s neck repeatedly while shredding his stomach with my back feet.

The quickness of my actions had the cat disoriented. I savored the win, and then slowly released my hold. The intruder started to back off but not before taking one last swipe, catching me on the nose with his claws. I wanted to tear him up but allowed him to run away, as all bullies do when confronted.

When I was sure the intruder and his friends were all out of the yard, I made my way back inside. Misty rubbed against me, checking for injuries. She licked the gash on my nose, and inspected the chunks of missing fur on my ears.

“Prowling his own quiet backyard or asleep by the fire, he is still only a whisker away from the wilds.”

––Jean Burden

CHAPTER FOURTEEN : A Ploy Well Played

Curled up tight, paws over my eyes, tail wrapped around myself securely, I winced slightly as I uncurled and saw Misty looking down on me from her perch on the back of my chair. Arching my back first, and then stretching languidly and yawning, I reminded her that, according to cat etiquette, it wasn’t proper to stare. I was hungry and headed for the kitchen, happy to see there was enough food and water for breakfast. When I finished, I approached Misty with an idea I had worked out during the night when it looked like I was sleeping. She quickly agreed, without questioning my instructions, to watch for Pooky and to report to me if she saw her come in, and do absolutely nothing else––strongly emphasizing the latter, explaining that I didn’t want anything to scare Pooky away.

I was sure that Pooky had the answer, and if I could get her to tell me what happened, I was certain I would be able to communicate it to an appropriate human.

Misty was on duty at her post in front of one of the tall windows looking out to the back yard, not moving a muscle. Maggie walked past her and came to me curled up in a ball on Alyx’s bed. When she called me, I opened one eye briefly, but didn’t move.

“What’s the matter, Murfy? You miss Alyx, don’t you?” she asked as she inspected the slash on my nose and the tufts of fur missing around my ears.

“What happened to you, fur-baby? You look like you’ve been in a fight. I told you the other day not to mess with Misty or someone was going to get hurt, and it looks like Misty won. Come on; let’s get you something special to eat.”

The police were through with their investigation, and the yellow tape closing off the kitchen was gone. Maggie opened my favorite can of food and emptied it on a paper plate. I just collapsed in front of it, stretching out my front paws, placing my chin flat between them, giving the impression that I was sad and depressed.

The ploy worked. She joined me on the floor. “Ethan is all right,” she said reassuringly. “His Dad’s been to see him, and he hired David Hunter, the best defense lawyer in the county who’s working hard on his case.”

She shook her head and ruffled my fur. “Listen to me,” she said. “I must be losing my grip on reality. I’m actually talking to a cat.”

Nevertheless, she continued to talk, saying not to worry, Alyx was fine, and she would be home soon. “Before you know it; your family will be back.”

I couldn’t exactly say she was lying, but she wasn’t telling me everything either. Earlier that day, I had overheard Mrs. Leary tell a neighbor in the backyard that they had charged Ethan with first-degree attempted murder, denied him bail, and transferred him to the County Branch Jail.

Maggie then commented on the fact that according to the wife of the judge who had denied Ethan’s bail, Judge Terrence Stoner, a pillar of the community and due to retire in four months, her husband wanted nothing to mar his record. The rumor was that Judge Stoner had been elected to err on the side of caution. He had concluded that Ethan was financially irresponsible, emotionally unstable and could be a danger to his mother.