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‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My name is Felix. I’™m a a cat who, by an extraordinary stroke of good fortune was rescued from a life of hardship and of poverty; of harsh smells and constant struggle. Not only am I now in comfort but able uniquely also to speak out for other strays and appeal to certain humans wherever they maybe. How this came about I shall relate later but first and foremost I feel I must bring to public attention the’  sorry plight of so many of my kind. I speak out primarily on behalf of my town and city namesakes upon whom fortune did not smile as it did upon me. The thousands of homeless cat vagabonds who eke out a living fighting and scrambling for the meanest of scraps from trash cans and other lowest of the low sources to keep soul and whisker alive.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I happen to be one of the few, possibly the only cat ever that has had the chance of an education and become acquainted with humans and their ways. The grand lady, my mistress, who takes care of me is known to humans as Lady Batheswater but whom I call Meeown. She is more than a Godsend ‘“ she’™s a true friend and companion. She took me in as an abandoned kitten but not before I had had sufficient time to know just how tough life can be ‘œout there’.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  When Meeown found me I had reached the end of my tether – had almost given up the struggle to live. My hardships had become just too much to bear. That is now two autumns ago but that first period gave me to understand and appreciate what I have now. I am all black except for my paws which are white. Meown thinks I’™m cute but I myself wish I was all black.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My education began when I was very small. She held me on her lap and began communicating by what she terms mental transfer. Gradually I learned to return messages. In this way we built up not only a wonderful relationship but I was able to gain a good working knowledge of human behaviour. On her part, Meown wanted to learn through me about disadvantaged strays, our struggles, how we at all cope ‘“ those that manage to survive, that is.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Meown astonished me with her knowledge of other far away countries and the many animals there. I was thrilled to learn about and the great cats of Africa that live in the wild. Which of us cats would not be excited to hear about the life and ways of our grand cousins, kings of the cat world that live in wild freedom in Africa. The leopards, cheetahs and lynx. The great tigers of India and panthers’  of Peru. I never imagined that such wonderful creatures lived in the world. I became so excited when I learned of them that my fur tingled with pride. It would go all prickly when she related the way the great female lions would stalk prey to feed the pride.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I asked her why the males didn’™t go after the pride’™s feed. She answered that even among humans it’™s the lot of the female who so often does the shopping.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  She says I work for my keep. But the so called work I do is not work at all but a very interesting way of life. Meeown lets me out in the evenings to move among strays and bring back information of their whereabouts and state. I have come to know them all.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  There’™s this great, grey one I call Tiger. Last night I casually walked into the back yard which is part of his territory. I know the place well. It is full of boards and metal rubbish. Next the house is a trash bin that is highly prised by many particularly by a very powerful feline tramp and yard resident. It contains all kinds of tasty scraps ‘“ often raw bits of chicken and bones.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I must say, as well fed as I am, I’™m sometimes tempted by the appetising smells from it. Last evening Tiger was there before me. As soon as I appeared he arched his back and dared me to come even one step closer. Now I’™m very strong and don’™t back off easily but here was a case of casual desire against a desperation. I stood my ground but kept well away and let him have his go first. That evening he was lucky; he dragged out of the bin half a chicken carcass. He quickly took it behind some old planks and disappeared beneath them. Tiger often had first choice from the bin but many knew of the place and often there were serious fights over first choices.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Tiger’™s move had been stealthy and fast but not before he had been spotted by Turkey ‘“ she that feline tramp I mentioned. I named her Turkey because of her bewildering colours. She had seen Tiger’™s every move. Now Turkey was not only hungry, she had a litter of three to keep fed. Youngsters grow fast and are always famished.’  This often causes nervous desperation in the mother since kittens’™ hunger cries may well attract a human to the spot ‘“ often with tragic consequences.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Turkey decided that her need was greater than Tiger’™s. She was not as big as Tiger but necessity and determination count for many an extra pound of muscle. I watched, fascinated as she slinked forward toward the boards, her belly practically scraping the ground. Watching her I realised how similar her movements were to those of a’  lioness of the African plains as related to me by Meeown.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Her low growl had only one meaning and Tiger knew he would have to fight or give up his juicy meal. But Tiger wasn’™t one to give up a succulent chicken portion so easily. His returned growl told Turkey that there was no way he was going to give up his dinner through a threat from a smaller female.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My vision is good in the dark but the tangle that followed in the next few seconds was impossible to follow. All I do know is that after some terrible shrieking, squealing and howling, Tiger raced up the road, his head bleeding badly while Turkey streaked towards her lair, the chicken carcass between her teeth.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I knew where her kittens were and, keeping my distance, followed her to the place.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  What I saw froze my blood and set anger coursing through me like acid. A heavy handed human,a bulldog of a neighbour in our apartment building who must have heard the kitten’™s crying had investigated. He now was holding a large sack, the kittens meowing plaintively inside. In a flash I raced upstairs to Meeown’™s apartment, jumped through my entrance and onto Meeown’™s lap.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  My expression was enough to tell her that something terrible was taking place. It took no more than a moment to flash her the picture of the kittens in the hands of Hardman. Meeown new him well because of his hatred toward me and all cats. His intention was obvious.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Meeown moved so fast I fell to the floor but I followed as she ran down the three flights to the back yard. She was just in time. Hardman had filled a tub with water and had already immersed into it the sack containing the kittens. The opening of the sack in his one hand, with the other he held the struggling kittens under the water.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Meeown, a well built woman herself, did not say a word but ran straight into the large man. Her body weight sent Hardman reeling, then headlong into the tub. The tub wavered then toppled spilling its contents, Hardman, water and sack into the now, muddy yard.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Hardman stood up spluttering bad words and water. What exactly they said was not clear to me of course for it was not in the form to which I was used. In essence its meaning must have been very similar to the growling and screeching that had come from Turkey and Tiger earlier on.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  In the meantime the kittens had escaped from the sack, wet but otherwise unhurt, and were now following Turkey, who was still holding the chicken, to another hideaway. This is always the way of the females before birth in the event of just such an emergency.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Of course I was curious as to the new address, so I followed. She made her way to a overgrown section of the perimeter hedge. This had become relatively thick due to a small leak at the water meter nearby. The earth was damp and cold there but it was as safe an alternative as was possible under the circumstances.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  By the time I got back to where the skirmish had taken place, it was all over and somewhat disappointedly, I made my way back to my own comfortable home and loving mistress. Meeown was still very agitated but was happy when I related where Turkey and her young brood were now hidden. I was rewarded with a butter biscuit which she knows I just love.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  I have here related a typical day in my comfortable life which brings me to the real point of this tale. Meeown is so kind; she offered to help me in my pursuit to understand why so many humans are angered by the sight of a cat. It was necessarily a co-operative effort, for never could I have written this on my own while she herself wished to record a cat’™s view on this fascinating subject. She tells me that this is unique since it will the first time in history that this comes directly from a cat. Meeown, I believe is writing this in my name. This makes me feel very proud.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Well, I finally know the root cause of so many men’™s hatred towards us. It is with much satisfaction but also no little sadness that I am able to tell this to Meeown.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  We cats are, in certain ways superior to many humans. Many people are afraid to be honest with themselves trying their best to cover up their weaknesses. So many lie and cheat and are dishonest. They lie even to themselves!
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  We, on the other hand, are not afraid to be distinctive. We’™re individualistic, forthright, never show a double face to anyone and are free (often, however sadly, only in our minds.)
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Now many of those who hate us, do so for just those qualities which so many of them lack. This, I have noticed, is far less pronounced among the female of the humans. The reason for this is also clear – so many females are simply more mature and mentally strong than many of their masculine counterparts.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Now that I have succeeded finally to settle my mind on this issue, to quote a common saying, having put it in a nutshell, I end by duly praising Meeown for the wonderful education and life she has afforded me. This must be a first in the annals of cats everywhere.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  Now on behalf of all those cats suffering the brutalities of this hatred, Meeown and I both hope that this tale may influence in some measure this ‘œantifeline-ism’ so prevalent among male humans.
‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  May the God who created all creatures, bless you and make those humans for whom this is intended, see us in a new light.
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‘ ‘ ‘ ‘  P.S. (By the ghost-writer and unknown to Felix). I must say he gets me really mad sometimes: His haughtiness – his pride. To be sure, I love and admire him almost to an abstraction but to quote another saying, he so often really thinks he’™s just the cat’™s whiskers!