There was a three legged cat loose and no one knew who it belonged to. A lean white cat with green eyes that looked Siamese when perched on its two hind legs. A strangely beautiful cat that only had three legs.
Other questions were posed about this cat besides ownership. 'Was it born with only three legs' being the main one, 'Who did that' was another, but no one knew. His right front leg was the one missing and it made him near unique.
It had none of the grace or smoothness a cat usually had. When it ran one almost heard the thunder of clunkiness that a cripple is associated with, that awkward hobble trying to get to where it wanted to go, instead of the usual stealth of a soundless stalker.
There was a discomfort and protectiveness towards the cat who at times lost its balance and knocked against things and people even thought that the remaining front leg would break every time it galloped towards you.
The immediate instinct was to reach out a hand in order to stop him from putting so much pressure on his last front leg by running towards you. Then the cat would slow down, hobble in approach, and lick your fingers, the inside of your hand, the crevices of your nails, a more pleasurable sensation could hardly be encountered on this earth.
This particular cat made you wonder what the purpose of a cat was. It must have had an owner and a house of its own, yet it was obsessed with getting into every house in its vicinity. Why ? Why every house when it had one house which gave it everything it wanted? The cat seemingly wished to make every house its own.
The cat came from out of nowhere but within a week every household in the street had a kitty litter, more than one had installed a flap. The cat's objective was complete. It had come to belong to every household and the question of who the cat belonged to ended. It belonged to everyone. Or rather, every house belonged to him.
It started to rain over a couple days and every household looked out for the cat wanting to give it shelter from the foul weather but the litters remained empty. Some went outside looking for it just in case it was hurt.
One of them was a guy who was formerly very jumpy but used the cat's unexpected and sudden movements and the noises it made as a treatment for his sensitivity. He was cured by the cat.
The man was holding on to his hat with one hand because he didn't want it to blow off and came across an old bespectacled lady with an empty baby carriage. She had no dealings with any baby, her own or others, yet always had this carriage with her.
'Why did you bring that hat if you see it's blowing like crazy with the rain?' she asked with the nosiness of the elderly. They had been living in the same neighbourhood for some time but this was the first time they had spoken to each other.
'It wasn't blowing with rain like this two minutes ago when I left the house.'
She eyed him and said:
'Five minutes.'
'Three minutes.'
'Compromises can be made.'
Both went home to the empty kitty litter unable to find the three legged cat. Then the rain stopped and the sun shone and the cat with its beautiful green eyes started to hobble out again, the galloping cripple licking fingers again, and the community was happy again that the litter had the cat in it once again. But a little jealousy reared up and more than one asked the cat who it had stayed with, who it had chosen - or rather, once again they asked who had ownership over the cat.
More than one person looked out of their windows when the cat left to see where it would go. In fact many people thought it only had two households to choose from and didn't know that the cat went in and out of every house on the street. But people couldn't keep with the wiliness of the three legged cat because despite the fact that it hobbled rather than streaked it still was easy for it to move unpredictably. One second it was there, the next it was out of sight, ducking and dodging between the flowerpots of several houses on the street. Frankly no one had the patience to stalk a cat the way a cat would stalk them, even a three legged one.
There was one household which had a lawn with a couple plants here and there, along with long, tall grass. In the tall grass one would see the cat lounging and people started to think that this was the 'other' house the cat frequented, not knowing every house was his house, and that it frequented every house in the street.
One day, the old lady who had gone looking for him with her empty baby carriage knocked on the door of this house with the tall grass. To her side the cat lounged in the grass not taking note of her. This made the lady furious. Her finger tips were tingling with the desire to get licked. An old fragile man opened the door, at least twenty years older than her, who herself was pushing sixty. Even though they had been living near each other for twenty years they had never spoken to each other before.
'Excuse me. Hi. I just noticed that you don't cut your grass. Why don't you cut your grass, my dear man?'
'Why should I ?'
'It's unsightly. Aren't you ashamed, man. Look at the state of it! You can barely see the cat -'
'Kill me.'
'Pardon?'
'Why don't you kill me?'
'All I want to know is if you can cut the grass once in a while.'
'I said kill me.'
The lady stared at him momentarily.
'Fine. Keep it your way.'
She walked away disturbed a little and went along her way with her empty baby carriage. It really wasn't that serious. The old man watched her go with a reproachful glare like he really wanted her to kill him and closed the door when she was out of sight. The three legged cat continued to lounge in the long grass.
Jealousy never dims it only flares fiercer especially when the object becomes lost forever. The cat continued to pay visits to one house then the other until it stopped and disappeared. The cat went missing. Weeks passed and the cat still did not make an appearance. People started to look around and ask their neighbours if they had seen it, neighbors they would not have spoken to mainly because they had nothing to say to each other. What was there to speak about? Now they had something to speak about. No one knew where the cat was or what happened to it.
What is the purpose of a cat? A strange creature whose sole purpose is to get closer to mankind. They seem to really like mankind but mankind doesn't want you to like mankind, they want you to like the individuals who make up mankind.
The people on the street started to look at each with accusations wondering if their neighbours weren't secretly sequestering the three legged cat in a prison for their own pleasure. The longer the cat went missing the greater the anguish grew.
This was for the most part a quiet neighborhood with not much going on. But now it started getting louder, with arguments of such proportions! People walking down the street were always angry. The old man with the tall grass came out more and more asking strangers point blank to kill him. One day someone obliged him and struck him down, cracking his head on his gate. And then a domestic dispute spilled over into the street: a man was beating his mother on the street. The police were called for a murder - a person had killed his housemate, strangled him with a belt. Every time the words tended to be the same thing.
'What did you do with my cat!!' they would shout to their victim. 'How dare you steal it from me! I bet you were the one who took its leg. Just because it chose me and not you. Jealous bastard! Take it from me, will you! It chose ME!'
Every single person on that street felt themselves robbed of that cat, lamenting the jealous nature of man envious because they had not been the one chosen…
Meanwhile the cat was in the next neighborhood lounging in a dining area of a new house he had just made his own…
