on Koshka

Koshka was Mowgli’s cat. Mowgli died so now she’s living with me. I don’t actually like cats that much but I don’t mind them. In Croydon we had a big fat scary cat named Sebastian that I called Shabby. He liked to play in the snow and I thought that was unusual for a cat. He was always grumpy when he came back in, usually to squeeze me out from my seat near the heater. He kept me company whenever I went out for a smoke.

Heather’s mom had a cat in Germany, a black one. I’ve the picture somewhere but can’t remember the name now. She was really hostile and didn’t like me very much – the cat, not the mother in law. She actually attacked me once. The only other time I defended myself against a cat was when a juvenile lion cub ran after me at the Safari Park (he wanted only to play, I ran).

Anyhow, many years ago, I came home and Heather told me she found a cat in the driveway. A very little tiny baby cat – we called Sophie. Mowgli was about two years old at the time and he didn’t seem to mind the cat. He took a peculiar interest in the cat, very paternal. My dog is similar to me in one respect – we don’t know how to treat women and how to respond to little people. Most of the time, Mowgli just sat and stared at little Sophie. The little movements and curious signs of life fascinated the dog and Mowgli was totally occupied by our newest member of the family.

We had another dog back then, an old bitch called Hobbes. She wasn’t our dog – we adopted her because the owner was going out of the country and she was too old to travel. Plus she had a serious flea problem and that would require extra quarantine and stuff. She was much older and occasionally got into nasty brawls with Mowgli but they had largely made their peace when Sophie arrived. Mowgli was the Prince of the house, Hobbes was the Nasty Aunt and Sophie was the youngest girl yet to be assigned the correct title.

Mowgli learned that the little animal was harmless and posed no threat so he moved with care, almost dread not to harm the fragile creature. Sometimes, when the cat had learned more sophisticated moves (eg. Falling off pillows and the like), Mowgli sounded the alarm and barked to get our attention. Soon enough Mowgli learned that Sophie is much stronger than he thought – she’d also grown bigger – and Mowgli followed her around everywhere, almost like a bodyguard. For most of her life, Sophie was very rarely out of his sight.

Hobbes, on the other hand, rediscovered her maternal instincts (she had puppies before, I think) completely attached herself as the Mother. Hobbes was a big ugly – but adorable – dog and Sophie was a little fragile orange cat and they bonded like mother and daughter. Mowgli got jealous and the two dogs fought a few times over the cat. It was quite hilarious, as well as terribly annoying for us, but they were both great dogs and soon settled accordingly to their respective domains. I showed an obvious preference for Mowgli and Heather was the balancing influence. She also spent more time at home so she probably knew the kids better.

Within a few quick years, Sophie got pregnant and delivered four kittens. Four tiny weeny little kittens and their cranky mother plus the two dogs. All three adult animals wanted to exercise they now-well-trained paternal instincts. Mowgli was the only male and in this, he showed an impressive defect in his women-handling skills. I never know how to treat women, but I never bit any of them in the ass either.

Hobbes was unbelievably maternal. She literally kidnapped the kittens – carrying them in her mouth – in order to keep an eye on the babies. Hobbes wanted the kittens to sleep where she did. The mother hated the idea of her babies sleeping with the Annoying Aunty and Mowgli went bananas because the two girls keep putting the babies in their mouth. It looks like carrying babies in their mouth is a basic instinct exists only in the female. Meanwhile, we had a cat and a dog fighting setting up a transport route between the cats area and Hobbes sector (due to her flea problems, Hobbes was assigned a semi-detached part of the house. The bitch stole the babies, the mother hastily taking them back and Mowgli trying to break the madness. It sounds a lot funnier now.

Sophie died not long after and we had to give away three of the kittens – four kittens and two dogs was too much. Hobbes, Mowgli and Koshka – the Chosen One – stayed with me. Hobbes died a few years ago, then Mowgli a few months ago, and Koshka is the one left. Mowgli never let her out of his sight either except that Koshka goes out a lot. She comes home only when I arrive home and Mowgli always greeted her after me. These days, Koshka’s favourite spot outside is right by his grave. The maids said she always sits there in the morning.

She is growing old and no longer spends so much time outside now. Koshka is a peculiar cat and doesn’t at all like to be stroked or touched – by absolutely no one except Mowgli. She keeps her distance away from me, always within reach, but never touching or leaning on me. She is an avid hunter and she brings me mouse and rats and other rodents for present all the time. Cleaning them is a mess and it is very disgusting to have a dead rat in the living room, I know, but from the cat’s perspective, she’s showing the love.

Anyway, nothing happened with the cat or anything. No loonies with air guns or anything. She was just there the whole time.