Satisfaction Brought Her Back
The cat stares at the fireplace. She looks it up and down. The owner of the cafe (and the cat) turned it off years ago because of safety measures. There’s that chance the gas gets left on, and the owner doesn’t want herself or her cat to die while they sleep. The cat notices the stone veneer is chipping and smirks the way cats do. One part of the mouth curls upwards and the other side stays put. In her mind, she chuckles because the chipping veneer makes the fireplace look realistic, but if you look at it closely, it looks tacky. She looks inside it and smells the soot still trapped in the chimney. She purrs as her curiosity grows, and her tail begins swishing back and forth like a clock on a wall. The cat is 12 years old, which is not that old for a cat. She thinks she has a few good, rambunctious years left. She chooses to ignore the aching pain in her hips, her loosening teeth, and her dimming eyesight.
The owner calls for the cat. She turns with her ears pricking up and is told to go to her perch. The cafe would be open soon, and she couldn’t be bothering the customers. She knows this, but each day she waits until her owner says it is time to go. The cat cries. She doesn’t want to walk all that way; she never has. It is a long way to her cat tree by the window; her favorite perch is so high. The cat wants to convince herself that it has always been that far away and hard to get to, but that is not true. It has only gotten farther and higher as she has aged.
The owner smiles and sighs and comes to her companion. The cat purrs as she is picked up, and she nuzzles the human she has been with since she was a kitten. The owner gently places her cat on the perch. She tells the cat to stay there until the breakfast rush is over. If she obeys, there may be a treat in store. The cat meows in understanding.
Only minutes into the breakfast rush, the cat observes the milk lady who asks if the cafe has oat milk. She has observed the milk lady for the past two weeks. Every day this lady asks if the cafe has non-dairy milk. The cat always found this intriguing, that humans call the liquid from pressed nuts or other plants milk. Weirdly, she herself doesn’t like milk which she knows is strange for her species; but it has made her stomachache for years now. At the mention of milk, she always remembers when she stopped liking it. A few years ago, the sweet substance she loved became too much. A few hours of vomiting convinced her that milk was no longer something for her. She growls at this memory.
The cat watches as her owner answers this lady’s questions with ease and pleasantry. She can sense that her owner is as tired of this customer as she is. The milk lady asks for a latte with oat milk and dashes of cinnamon and nutmeg. Yes, a dash, the cat thinks. It is a numerical value that has only been given to spices or mixed drinks but has no actual measurement. Or so she’s heard. She overhears her owner saying the drink will be ready soon.
The milk lady is a short woman whose eyeliner is always smudged in a way that the cat cannot tell if it’s her look or if she is always in a rush. A barista artfully fills the milk lady’s cup. He makes foam art even though a lid will go on the cup, and nobody will see it. She purrs and rolls in her bed on the perch. The customers look over at her and ooh and aah. Twin boys tug on their mother’s sleeves and point. They are around eight and with voices that are a little too loud for inside, say they see a cat. The cat overhears the mother telling the children to get their coats on because it looks like it’s about to snow outside.
This was true. As the cat glances outside, she sees the sky is indeed gray. The trees that line the street have some leaves left, but not many. They will soon be snow-covered and will look even more dead than they look right now. She shivers and rolls up into a ball, trying to warm herself up. Even thinking about the cold makes a chill run down her spine.
Getting into the ball is uncomfortable, and she quickly loosens herself. She stretches her legs long. She looks like a starfish with each of her legs going in different directions. She looks at her paws that were once a dark black and sees that more grays have appeared. She growls at herself. She does not like these grays and wishes they’d disappear. When she was a kitten, and even when she was a young cat, everyone would compliment her fur, and the cat would smile. She’d lift the corners of her mouth and open her mouth slightly. Then she’d slightly tilt her head. Her owner would thank the gawking fans and brag about how well she feeds her. The cat wants to forget about these grays, so she falls asleep.
When she awakes, the cafe is closed. Maybe today is one of those days where they close in the early afternoon. She’s never sure what day that is. At this point in the day, the cat becomes tired of being high up and wants down. The cat looks over at her owner who is sitting down having a cup of tea herself. Her eyes are closed, and she has headphones on. The cat wants down now. She meows and meows. The owner finally notices her cat and sighs. She knows that her companion meows because she wants to get off her perch. She’s had the cat since she was in high school. As her cat has aged, she’s thought about the day that her cat will eventually leave her. She’s always pushed that aside and thinks that she can’t be going yet. Always not yet. She pities her animal though and goes over to her. The cat raises its head into the palm of the owner. The owner smiles and lifts the cat from the perch. The cat licks the owner's hand.
The cat strolls past the fireplace. She thinks she can climb it. She did it when she was three and was able to get down without the owner ever knowing she was in there. She thinks she can do it at 12. She looks at herself, though, and sees that her claws are dull. Not now, she thinks, another day, perhaps.
Home is conveniently upstairs. Just follow the stairs in the back, and up one flight, one would find their apartment. The cat likes this arrangement. She’s never too far from home. The cat walks to the back of the cafe. Step by step, the cat climbs the stairs. With each step she shifts her weight to her back paws. She readies herself like she's going to pounce. And then, off she goes into the air. She doesn’t get very high, but high enough to make the next step and the next. In total, there are nine stairs. The owner watches her cat try to get up the stairs. She chuckles, and the cat hears her. The cat growls which only makes the owner laugh more. The owner tells the cat to be careful, and the cat obeys. She makes it up the stairs and journeys to her bed. She dreams of a plan to climb up that chimney.
Weeks pass and the cat still is determined to climb the fireplace. She has let her claws grow out in order to get the best grip on those bricks in the chimney. When the cafe closes and her owner isn’t around, she goes to the fireplace and practices her climbing, practicing getting a proper grip.
The cat is practicing one day when the owner walks past the fireplace. The owner is curious where her cat has been, but she doesn’t look in the fireplace. She doesn’t know that her cat is in there, tightly clawing up the chimney. When she passes it, she thinks Oh no she wouldn’t be in there she’s too old to be up climbing like that. The owner pauses in her thinking when she thinks old. Yes, the cat was a cat, an animal different from humans. An animal that didn’t live as long and didn’t have thumbs to complete complex tasks, but to her owner she is her family. All family members get old and eventually die, but that doesn't mean the sting isn’t there.
The owner went back upstairs just in time for the cat to lose her grip and tumble on the floor. The cat continues to do this until she walks past it one morning. She looks it up and down.
Today is the day, she thinks. The owner catches her cat looking at the fireplace again and tells her cat to go to her perch. It is almost opening time, and customers will be here soon. The cat meows and reluctantly walks over to her tree. She tests her claws and begins to climb up it. The owner watches and smiles. The cat does have a few good years left, the owner thinks.
Customers arrive, and the morning rush begins. The cat rotates her body and lies on her back. She whacks at the air with her paws, pretending there’s a fly in the air. Anything to entertain her while the customers are here. She wants them to leave. She wants to climb up the fireplace, up the chimney. She wants to prove that she can, in fact, be a cat and climb things as she did before.
As customers come and go, the owner watches her cat swat at the air. It reminds her of when her pet was a kitten. Usually, there was nothing to swat at, which the owner thought was unusual, but she enjoyed watching her animal, nevertheless. Order after order, the owner and her colleagues make lattes, cappuccinos, and espressos. They heat up muffins and toast bagels. They don’t know that the cat is thinking of the best way to sneak up the chimney without her owner and the other workers seeing. Soon it is lunchtime, and as workers begin leaving the cafe or going to the backroom, the cat meows like she usually does at this time. The owner smiles and doesn’t think this behavior is anything unusual. She helps the cat down as she would any other day, but this isn’t like other days. The owner goes to the back to have her lunch.
The cat walks by the fireplace again, looks at her claws, and sees how sharp they are. She goes inside. She places one paw on one brick and gets a steady grip. The other paw follows and gets a good hold too. Slowly the cat starts climbing and climbing. I’m not that old, the cat thinks. An old cat couldn’t do this, she thinks. But, the higher she climbs, the narrower the sides become. The soot smell is growing stronger, and then she sneezes. As she sneezes, she loses her grip and falls.
The cat cries as she falls down the chimney. Her back is against the other side of the chimney and her body is twisting in all sorts of ways. She feels her spine against the chimney, her legs breaking as she slides. She can’t right herself in order to land on her feet. She tries to grip the sides, doing anything to stop what is happening, but she can’t. She lands with a hard thud and rolls out of the fireplace.
As she lies there she howls and pants and cries. She knows she shouldn’t have climbed it. She knows it was terrible to do, but she just wanted to try. Yet, here she is, on the hardwood floor of the cafe. She howls and moans since her two back legs are shattered, and she cannot move them. She’s 12, which is old for a cat. She still has a few good years left in her life, but not many. She feels like throwing up, but she hasn’t eaten this morning. She cries more and more until she hears the scream of her owner. The owner rushes over to her companion and the cat looks at her owner. The cat looks as if she wants to cry. The owner grabs the bed that is on the perch. She manages to scoop her up and place her in the bed. The owner runs with her to the car. The cat coughs and vomits bile; the pain is becoming unbearable. The owner watches as the cat she’s had since she was a teenager writhes in pain. Tears form in her eyes as she calls the emergency vet and begins to drive.
The cat glances out the window as they get on the main road. She looks out the window and sees some trees. She sees the forest with the sand that she and her owner frequent in the summer. In March, these trees are still bare, gray, and cold. They still look dead. The cat lets out a tiny meow. They’re dead, she thinks, so dead. She is scared. She does not want to die, not yet.
The owner keeps pacing up and down the lobby while her cat is in surgery. The vet assistants and other vets can tell that she loves her cat very much. She remembers how in high school, she wanted to be understood by her peers but found refuge in the cat shelter she volunteered at. One day a pregnant cat was found and brought in. The cat gave birth a few hours later, and the owner was able to witness the birth of her cat. Her cat was the runt of the litter, the smallest of the five, but she was the loudest. When the other kittens were put up for adoption, the owner knew she couldn’t let that kitten be taken away from her. And so, she adopted the little black cat with the big voice.
The owner continues to pace and remembers seeing her cat age. She remembers the first time the cat didn’t fall on her feet but instead tripped over them. She remembers when the first tooth was lost and the first gray hairs, but she didn’t want to accept it. Not then, not now. The owner eventually sits down in one of the waiting room chairs and puts her head in her hands. She rocks herself back and forth.
Eventually, the vet comes out. She is still in her scrubs as she just came out of the surgery room. She explains to the owner that her pet made it through the surgery alright. The owner is told to keep a close eye on the cat now and make sure she doesn’t get into any more trouble. The vet says this to keep the conversation light and ease the owner, but the owner doesn’t laugh. She cries and cries. She thinks about how she should have kept a closer watch on her little black cat. She says that she should have come faster when she heard her cat fall. The vet tells her that she has been a great owner. None of this was her fault, the vet says. The owner nods, but she is not convinced yet. The vet says that because the cat is old, they want to keep her overnight to see how she’d do. The owner nods and slowly walks out of the building. She drives home cursing at herself for not doing better.
When the owner gets home, she stares at the fireplace. She looks it up and down. She curses at it. She yells at it. She asks why it was so interesting that her cat had to climb it. She looks at the cat tree and the perch that her cat lay on and sees how high it is. Her coworkers come out and try to ease her worries. The owner ponders what they say. Perhaps it will all work out. Maybe her cat will be fine. She goes up to the tree and looks it up and down. Its once bright purple fabric has now faded to a light lilac. The side of the tree that got the most sunlight almost looks colorless. Almost, because it was covered in the cat’s fur. The owner takes the perch to the alley by the cafe and throws it away. Tomorrow she will buy her cat another bed.
The cat wakes up in a metal cage with a soft bed inside. She is recovering from the anesthesia which makes her feel nauseous, but she feels no pain in her legs. As she looks at her legs, she can see that they’ve grown. They’re much wider than before, but she realizes they must be her casts. She can’t see the gray hairs. She begins to roll around, trying to get up so she can breathe a little easier. Her legs restrict her. She wonders if this is what her life will be like from now on. A vet assistant spots the cat as she’s trying to get up. The assistant comes over to the cage and tries to soothe the cat. The cat looks at the assistant and listens to the words he says. Maybe it will be okay, the cat ponders. Perhaps it would be better if she just tried to sleep like the assistant said. But her stomach is rumbling, and her throat is sore because of the tube that was down her throat. She is uncomfortable. She wants to be home. Yet, she stares at her paws again and sees that more grays are there. She remembers how she was so scared on the ride over. How she thought she was going to die. Not yet, she thinks. I’ve still got more years, she thinks. But, she’s still unsure about that fact. She doesn’t growl at her gray hairs and begins to drift off. She hopes that she’ll be home soon. She just wants to go home.
The owner decides that the fireplace should be used while the cat is in the clinic. She thinks that would stop the cat from going up there from now on. She also buys her cat a new bed that's soft and even has a heating function. It’s meant for older cats. It’s intended to help them rest and feel comfortable. On the fourth day, the cat can return home.
When the owner goes back to the vet, her cat meows and cries as the vet assistant carries her to the owner. The owner cries too and scoops her delicate cat into her arms. The casts are still on, but the vet says she can walk just fine in them. Her gait is a little off though. The casts should be off within the next month as well. The vet advises the owner to watch the cat closely. She can’t be getting into much trouble, which makes the assistant and the owner laugh. The cat paws at the owner's hair, and the owner nuzzles her companion.
On the ride home, the cat looks at the trees she passed only a few days ago. All the leaves are now gone, but the sun is shining brightly. The cat likes the warmth on her fur. She purrs. She is pleased.
The cat recovers in her corner of the cafe, but she is not high up on a perch this time. Instead, she's on the ground in a cat bed. Her area is sectioned off with a little fence that keeps the cat out of the customers’ way and vice versa. The fireplace is also on for the first time in years, and the customers all compliment it and say they are happy it is back on. The fireplace warms the place so well that the cat doesn’t even need the heating component of her bed.
A month passes and the casts come off the cat. When the cat arrives home after they’re removed, the owner immediately goes and turns on the fireplace. The owner looks at her companion with eyes that say, don’t you even think about it. The cat smiles in the way cats do. The cat walks over and stares at the fireplace. She watches as the flames dance with each other— back and forth. She can feel the warmth of it, and can smell gas, and that smell that can only be described as ‘fire.’ She meows and curls up into a ball as best as her hips and legs allow her. She is 12, which is, in fact, old for a cat, but she is satisfied with that fact. ★
Ellie Boyle is a graduating senior who majored in Neuroscience and English with a creative writing concentration. Her work explores the interaction between humans and animals and the connections that form. This is her first published piece.