Alex Howard - Library Cat

“Yah, I, like, totally forgot I had two HUB Reserve books overnight, they’re, like, hours overdue. I’m going to have a massive fine, and not be able to graduate until it’s paid off, yah? They charge you £2 for each minute…?”

Hmmmm , thought Library Cat, his mind turning to the thousands of library books he kept in his bedroom. The image sat comfortably in his head for about two and a half seconds before a thick panic began to gloop through muscles like mantle. A few hours overdue… and yet this Human seems very worried .

Then it struck Library Cat like a rock. How could he have been so stupid?

A FINE!

And so it was, that at that very moment, Library Cat was introduced to that heinous mix of feelings that all stalwart-yet-tardy library users are familiar with: financial anxiety, shame, guilt and, of course, loneliness resulting from lifelong ostracism from the library in question. His name would be denounced. No more Towsery. No more bacon rind! No more warmth! A cat in the doghouse…

Every minute! Every MINUTE!? (Library Cat turned the word over and over in his head like a fluffy catnip ball.)

So I’ve been charged £2 for every minute The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche was not returned to the HUB Reserve? Dating back all the way to 30th October 2012? But that’s… £4,261,120! thought Library Cat, beads of sweat now beginning to seep through the underside of his paws and onto the clammy tarmac.

And that’s just ONE BOOK! I have over 150 books out at present, so that’s… ( ! )

Library Cat’s mind folded in at the figure. He had nothing to compare it with. He’d once overheard that seventy-five million Humans had read his thoughts on the Internet, but this figure far exceeded that. It was a figure only comparable to those that astrophysicists use to describe the distance to the outermost satellite of the outermost planet orbiting the outermost star in the outermost solar system known to Humankind… stated in millimetres.

He thought fast.

Missing, I have to go missing!

Library Cat had always been reluctant to go missing. Biblio Chat often played the Chat Perdu card whenever he’d vomited on the carpet. Biblio Chat would then vainly admire the pictures of himself pasted up on the local boulangerie window, before clawing them down by the veil of night and storing them as valedictory talismans for his already hugely inflated ego. He’d then return home to cuddles and a veritable bounty of sweetmeats in his basket. All in all, it made the self-induced vomiting thoroughly worthwhile.

But to Library Cat, going missing always seemed like the coward’s way out somehow – effective in garnering contrition among Humans, but never really resolving any issues. It’d be a short-term solution. He’d still be a cat on the run…

How can I pay up? I don’t have any money! A bird perhaps?

Library Cat had attempted to offer his thanks by delivering a bird to the library staff once, but the act of generosity had dramatically backfired. Hearing the shrieks of disgust as he placed the bird at the feet of one particular librarian as she enjoyed a sandwich on her break, Library Cat assumed that the bird was not satisfactory to her taste. Consequently he went back out on the hunt the next night and caught an even bigger bird as well as a rat. This cannot fail to delight , he’d thought, but the response the next day was even worse.

So I cannot get a bird. Umm… ummm… ummm…

Library Cat found himself pacing up and down on the spot. A lion locked in the cage of his own anxiety. Despite his books being overdue now for several years, and despite having never once been reprimanded or called to account over his crime, Library Cat nevertheless felt utterly sure that at this very moment, he was being watched by scores of surveillance computers, tracking his every move from space, each one poised to intervene at a moment’s notice sending a gaggle of baying Humans looking for him. All this time he’d been at peace when he should’ve been fraught with worry! All this time he’s been holding the gaze of myriad CCTV cameras, all latched onto him, swivelling sinisterly on their necks like a flock of malevolent barn owls. There were probably a host of computers all packed high with details of his book theft. By night, he was an infrared blob seen from above, a glowing tumour darting under bushes on the Meadows and George Square, seen even despite the thick, luminous alveoli that made up Edinburgh’s patchwork of streets and cul-de-sacs when viewed from the night sky.

Purring. Surely I can just purr. Purring solves everything. I shall purr all debts clean. It’s scientifically proven to have a manipulative effect upon Humans.

With a game plan, Library Cat felt a little better. Convinced that ostracism from the library loomed ever closer, he took a deep breath and walked over to the library, ducked under the glass doors, and marched high of head and straight of tail over to the Help Desk counter.

“Evenin’ Library Cat.”

“Purr purr purr purr.”

“Okay, Okay, I’ll get ye some bacon… jus’ wait there…”

Job’s a good’un , thought Library Cat, this seems to be going well .

As he waited for the librarian to return with the promised bacon, the same student he’d seen running earlier with the books arrived at the counter next to him. He watched as he unloaded the ungainly stack of monographs on the desk in front while the librarian scanned them one by one. When the librarian reached the final book, she looked interrogatingly back at her computer screen.

“Honestly, that’s, like all the books I have? I don’t, like, have any more?”

“According to our records,” the librarian said weightily, “we’re still due back The Complete Works of Friedrich Nietzsche …”

A cold sweat ran through Library Cat down to his paws.

“No, I swear I returned that years ago, I swear.”

“Hmmm.”

Waaaaait a minute , thought Library Cat suddenly, a relief starting to tingle across his fur like a warm duvet. The fine isn’t mine at all. The fine belongs to the Human that the library THINKS has the books .

Library Cat looked back at the student Human. His head was bowed in embarrassment, and the palms of his hands were ever-so-slightly sweaty.

Is this fair? Library Cat wondered to himself, with a sudden twinge of guilt. Is it fair that this man is being punished in my place? Is it fair that I roam a free cat, and this Human goes to judgement in my stead?

Suddenly the librarian turned towards Library Cat, her spectacles balanced at the end of a pointed, unyielding nose. Their eyes met, but that was enough. Library Cat could take no more. The pressure was too much. He took to his heels and galloped out of the library, and towards the Meadows park, his guilt two feet behind him at all times like an autumn wasp, just as the first librarian re-entered smiling with steaming hot crispy bacon.

Recommended Reading

Les Misérables by Victor Hugo.

Food consumed

Woodlice, catnip.

Mood

Guilty, fearful.

Discovery about Humans