My Tryst With the Quadrupeds - Vol. III : Some Things Unsaid

I spotted him last evening, after nearly a week, sleeping peacefully under the tree. He seemed to have lost a little weight, but looked as cute as ever in his graceful sprawling posture. Not wanting to wake him up, I tried to tiptoe past, but darn his acute senses! The instant I crossed him he was up, and cried out like a baby. I couldn't be hard on him - and myself - after hearing that purr.

He got up and shook himself up to launch a series of meows on me. I figured he was hungry, and rushed to fetch milk for him. Unfortunately, the canteen was out of milk, so I had to get him biscuits. He doesn't like biscuits but his hunger pang was stronger than his cuisine preference at the moment. Taking our places at one of his favourite eating spots, I broke down a few biscuits for him to gobble.Watching him eat, I thought to myself who'd spoil this brat for the coming 3 months; at the same time assuring myself that Nature had endowed him with the requisite skills to fend for himself.

As he finished eating, I got up to leave. And for the first time he held me back. Placing a firm paw on my thigh, he perched himself on my lap. He then lay his head on my lap and slipped halfway on to the grass, not loosening his grip on me though. It seemed as though that was his way of telling me not to leave. Animals have this eerie way sensing things. I would've stayed back if I could, but we cannot always do what we want to, can we? I'd take him home with me, but I value his independence and free way of life much more than my whims. Also, my resident pets would create a pandemonium at home if I brought in a playmate for them. In the meantime he pretended to sleep on my lap. (I know he was pretending because he kept checking if I was looking at him!)

After about an hour I had to get up to leave. There was a lot of packing and sorting to be done. I put aside his paw, which he instantly put back. We did this a couple of times before I finally got up. He caught hold of my wrist and refused to let go, even licked it  - most unusual for a cat. He then tried to grab my attention by rolling on the grass and enticing me to play with him. I tickled his belly, and turned to go. I could hear him purring indignantly. But I did not turn back.

With immense attachment comes immense insecurity and the agony of parting. With me, it is the same about Bunty, and his little gesture conveyed a lot as well. With his typical grumpily smug expression, he watched me leave.

I'll miss you my little brat. Stay good till I am back!

~