The Little Brave Warrior-Cat

When I opened my kitchen-door 3 years ago there were two beautiful black cats looking up at me. Sitting there quietly , green eyes filled with expectancy. One was bigger than the other one so I supposed these were mother and child. When I gave them a little bit of food, I could see that they were hungry. After dinner they thanked me and left.

Every day at 5pm they were back, ate, looked at me lovingly and left again. Since winter was approaching rapidly I decided that it was time to socialize them a bit more. When I picked up Mom it was okay, she purred. But Son was a different cattle of fish. He wanted none of it. When I picked him up he hissed and scratched, and then ran off. But every evening it went a bit better and after 5 days he didn't exactly like it, but tolerated me stroking his fur.

It was clear, that although Mom had lived in a house with people, Son had not. Whatever happened to these two, she must have given birth to him in the wilds of suburbia, and stolen food from other cats to feed herself while nursing him.

And so these two were shyly asking me if it was alright to move in. The moment I said "Okay then, come on in", holding the door open, Mom ran inside the house, Son following while keeping a suspicious eye on me. But they settled in nicely and since they were not aggressive cats, the other cats were fine with them. It was just that Son had never learned to "fight". My big cat Tom, who was just growing up into a teenager-cat thought that having a little brother was just what he had always wanted for Christmas and started with the "training" of this little black kitten.

Tom was a good teacher, he always stopped in time, never hurting the kitten. Actually, he taught him so well, that in the end the kitten hurt this big 10kg brute and we had to step in. The kitten, it appeared, stayed a kitten. It stayed tiny although it was well over 6 weeks old. A trip to the vet was needed anyway for Mom, who needed to be fixed and Son needed to be neutered.

"No, this is indeed not a kitten anymore", the vet said, peering into Son's mouth while dodging the nails. "He's more like 6 months old and we'll book him in for neutering". I looked at the tiny black furry ball with nails. He was always going to be a very small cat.

But in the cuddle-department he was definitely getting a lot better. He chose me over Mom; all she wanted to do was give him a good wash, holding him down with a large paw and looking at me as if to say: "those boys are always getting dirty and if it weren't for me he wouldn't be clean". But since she was "at home" with us, the Mothering was over, and it was up to me. I gladly took over her duties in the parenting of this cat.

But then came the day when this little warrior needed all the courage his little body could muster, to save his life.

He was hit by a car, while we were out. He'd dragged himself over the road to the safety of our front yard, on his front legs because his hind legs were both broken. He must have been there for a couple of hours in terrible pain, until we found him and got him to a vet.

The vet looked at us gravely. "As both of his hind legs are broken he'll need an operation. I can't do that and I have to get an Orthopedic Surgeon in. This is going to cost a lot. " He looked at us. And what did we say? "Go ahead, and get that Surgeon here asap". That"s what we said. We simply couldn't imagine life without this little black bundle.

After the operation and his week-long stay at the vets' we could take him home. One leg had metal pins inside his bones; the other leg had a large metal pin with screws on the outside. Of course he was not allowed to walk around for a long time, and certainly not play with the other cats. So a large cage was placed in the living room and he could recuperate inside. Sleeping on a (covered) hot water bottle, eating choice snacks and being cuddled all the time was what his life was, for many long months.

Today he is still very small. But fully recovered from his accident thanks to a great Orthopedic Surgeon, and a Vet, who didn't think a little ordinairy cat wasn't worth saving. Small as he'll always will be he'll tackle anything: high fences, big cats and couches.

And do I think he was worth all the money? Absolutely. The love he's given me has more than repaid me.