I Didn’t See This Coming by Nathalia Rueda

I didn’t expect to end up inside an oil tank.

I was chasing a mouse across the road when a car nearly ran me over. In a panic, I sped up to get to the other side of the street. I saw the fast-food truck and in I went. I wanted to find a nook to hide in, instead, I slipped and fell in the oil tank.

“Excuse me! I think a kitten has just gone inside your truck; can you see if it’s alright?” A voice said quickly. “A kitten?” A deeper one answered. “Yeah, a kitten. A black one. I just saw it run across the road and go inside the truck. We just want to make sure it’s alright.” I later pieced together that the person asking was Mina, the big female human. I couldn’t hear very well, seeing as I was trying to climb out of that slippery tank, so I’m not really sure what was said after that. The point is that a few moments later, a hand was pulling me out of the tank by the skin of my neck. I could hear Mina clearly now, she was fussing, “Oh no! Poor thing! And look, it’s so tiny!”

I must have been pretty small at that time, yes. I wasn’t really keeping track, but my guess is that the humans found me shortly after I had first opened my eyes.

“We have to take it home with us! What if it’s hurt?” That was Nyla, the smaller female human. “Absolutely not!” That, was Alfie – the big male human – he didn’t miss a beat with his answer.

Mina had wrapped me in a towel and was trying to rub the oil from my skin. Still, I could hear a muffled exchange of voices, and I noticed that Mina’s and Nyla’s often came together in unison. Alfie was one of the last ones to speak, “But only until it gets better,” he said unhappily. After that, I was completely wrapped in the towel, and I couldn’t hear or see anything anymore.

Oh great. Am I going from the fire into the frying pan?

Finally, I can see again!

When Mina unwrapped me, we were in the bathroom. It is entirely possible that that was the first and only time I was ever in there.

“I will hold him, and you’ll scoop up bits of water and pour them over his head, okay?” Mina was instructing Nyla as she held me over the water basin, “Be gentle, and careful, he will not like it.” I shrieked as I felt the water over my head. “Mom! Is he okay?” “Yes, yes, we will get it done quickly, don’t worry.”

It wasn’t over quickly. I screamed and squirmed, but they didn’t stop until they were satisfied. Between being stuck inside the oil tank and getting a bath, I would go back in the oil tank any day.

After I was rubbed dry with a clean towel, Mina let me out of the bathroom. I promptly fled and found safety underneath a chest of drawers in the living room. From this vantage point I inspected the place: no plants, a few windows, and a balcony to let in the light – oh yeah, and a lot of books. There was nothing to excite me about this place, except perhaps the lack of raccoons. After a few moments, a growl in my stomach reminded me of the fact that it was empty because I hadn’t eaten anything that day. My dinner plans had gotten derailed by the oil-tank-incident, and it didn’t seem likely that I would find another mouse inside this place. Darnit, how am I going to get something to eat?

I stuck my nose out from beneath the furniture and that’s when I saw him, the fourth and final human: Stef. He was sitting on a chair, reading a book, but keeping an eye on my hiding spot. Now that he could see my head, he was looking at me, with mild curiosity. A second later, he dropped his gaze and went back to his book. I liked Stef from the very beginning; he was as interested in me as much as I was in him: only vaguely.

I could faintly hear Mina and Nyla talking somewhere nearby. Then, Nyla came into the living room, carrying something.

“Walk very slowly Nyla, and don’t get too close.” Mina had stood next to Stef and watched as Nyla walked towards me. She took a couple of small steps and set something down on the floor before me. She was waving her hand – from me to her – while saying, “Come Gatito, come.” Whatever she put down smelled really good, which made my stomach lurch. I decided to risk a better look even though she was not to be trusted; I knew she was bigger than I was, but I was surely faster. I dipped my nose in whatever Nyla offered and it was unlike anything I had ever tasted. I finished it before I even noticed that Mina had gone to bring some more. I ate until my belly felt full and the skin over it tight.

Well done, Nyla. The ambrosia was definitively a bribe and I had played right into her hand.

Humans are strange.

They talk a lot –all of them –to each other and even to themselves when there are no other humans around. I guess they hadn’t thought of the fact that I was now in the house with them, because they sometimes acted as though they were alone. I do have to admit that hearing them complain about

the others, when they thought no one was listening, was very entertaining. Nyla, with her perpetual singing and dancing, was pretty fun to be around too; she was not too loud, and her voice was not annoying.

The group operated with a kind of routine. In the morning, while Nyla and Stef got ready for school – undressing, bathing, and dressing again; a wholly ridiculous process, if you ask me – Mina and Alfie would be busy in the kitchen preparing food. They would sit and eat together, before heading out the door for a big part of the day. Nyla and Stef would come home earlier than their parents, and they would sit at the table, scribbling on sheets of paper until Nina and Alfie came home. After the sun had set, the morning eating process would be repeated, though they would be much more talkative than in the morning. After eating dinner, they would each go about entertaining themselves in different ways. Nyla set down food for me twice a day and she would never disappoint; it was always good.

Nyla and Mina often came to me at night. That is to say, they always found me, no matter where I was hiding. I liked my privacy, but they seemed intent on robbing me of it. The first few weeks with them reminded me of my early days living outside. Then, I was constantly on the lookout for other cats, and raccoons – especially raccoons, they are scary and unfriendly creatures, and I was an easy prey. In the house, Nyla and Mina looked under the furniture, to see what I was up to, but after that first night I already knew better than to let them get their hands on me.

Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. One bath is enough to scar me for a lifetime.

Okay, pros and cons of living outside vs. living with the humans.

Contemplating life was nice to do on a sunny morning, while sunbathing on the balcony, and enjoying having the apartment to myself.

Living outside was not that fun, if I’m being honest. Finding food was hard and getting rained on was what I imagine hell must be like: just relentlessly getting rained on. Being able to go wherever I liked was nice, but I always felt persecuted; if it wasn’t the raccoons chasing after me, then it was other angry cats. Ain’t nobody got time for that.

Living with the humans is loud, and there are only so many places to hide from them. Also, they come and go as they please, but every time I try to leave with them, they close the door on me. The nerve. On the other hand, they feed me regularly and they haven’t tried to give me another bath. Alfie doesn’t like me, Stef doesn’t mind me, and Mina likes me a little too much. Nyla is nice though. She talks to me and tells me about the things she does; she’s pretty funny actually. Plus, she smells nice, and I like lying on her pillowafter she leaves for school. A definite con of living with the humans is this stupid red collar they put around my neck.

I do hate the collar, but the question remains, am I going to stay here? I never fancied myself a house cat.

How comfortable is too comfortable?

I was getting used to the consistent supply of warm food and water, that’s true. I had also discovered that, when Nyla or Mina rubbed behind my ears, a low rumble would sound from my belly and, If I’m honest, it was pleasant. If I’m completely honest, it felt as delightful as a full belly – if not more. I might as well admit it, I was becoming a purring house cat. The first time that Nyla brought me downstairs to the garden, I feared she was going to leave me there for good – she didn’t of course.

At first, she held on to the leash she had attached to my collar. She first let me sniff around and then, she knelt down beside me and unhooked the tether at my neck. She watched me while I nibbled on some leaves and jumped around trying to catch butterflies. After some time, she told me we should go back upstairs for dinner, and she scooped me up and brought me back to the apartment. I hated being carried like a baby – there is nothing more degrading for a cat than being carried like a baby – but Nyla gently pressed my tummy against her chest, supported my back legs with one arm, and I perched my front legs on her shoulder. It wasn’t my favourite way to travel but I trusted her at this point; it had been a long time since the infamous bath incident.

After that first outing, we went down to the garden frequently. Eventually, Nyla would drop me off in the garden when she left for school, and she would pick me up when she came home – never on rainy days though, she was always great that way.

Nyla was always great.

I am amazing.

Spending more and more time outside made me realize how much I liked running. It was nice not to feel like a prey anymore, as I felt myself getting more agile and stronger. The combination of daily rest inside the apartment, and my afternoons outdoors, was turning me into an avid hunter. I had a feeling that the birds recognized me from my sunbathing mornings on the balcony, and that they thought I was just another fat and lazy house cat. Joke’s on them. I could run faster each day, and they never saw me coming.

The first time I caught a bird was thrilling. I padded slowly towards a pack of them and when they finally realized what I was up to, it was too late. They took off but I sprinted towards one –my fastest strides yet –and jumped to seize it mid-flight. I was so proud. I couldn’t wait to show Nyla; I thought she would be proud too. Her reaction, when she arrived at the garden to pick me up, was very confusing for me.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no! Toby, what have you done?” She was on her knees, gingerly cradling my offering in her hands, “is it dead?”

What? Of course, it’s dead! That’s the whole point!

Nyla asked Stef to take the bird, which he did – reluctantly – and she scooped me up and rushed us inside. She called Mina on the phone and asked her to hurry home. I didn’t understand what was happening, I didn’t get why she was so upset. She took the bird into the bathroom, – naturally – I did not follow in there. Eventually, Mina got home and went into the bathroom as well. Sometime later, they both emerged, and they came to find me in the living room. Nyla was carrying the bird in her hands, and she knelt on the floor, set the bird down, and asked me to go to her. Finally, a “thank you”. Better late than never.

“Toby,” She said slowly while pointing at her gift, “please don’t do this again, okay?” What? If you had seen how great a catch it was, you would not be saying this! I was amazing! “Do you understand, Toby?” She repeated as she looked at me – wide eyes shining – while shaking her head, “please don’t do this again.”

I learned that day that none of the humans liked tokens of appreciation in the form of birds, especially not Nyla.

Well, that’s a bummer. I was trying to do something nice, but fine, no more dead birds for Nyla.

I don’t know when she wore me down exactly.

It took us a couple of days to get over the dead-bird-present debacle but, eventually, we got back to normal. After that, there was a period of time during which – surprisingly – I found myself thinking that my life was actually pretty great.

Being allowed outside on a regular basis was a game changer. It meant having the best of both worlds; I could stretch my legs and wear them out chasing after birds and squirrels – without trying to kill them now – and I could also rely on the consistent supply of delicious food back at the apartment. Running around outside during the day, meant sleeping more at night. I used to sleep on one of the chairs in the living room; Mina must have noticed because one night I saw her put down a blanket over it. I’m not going to lie, it made things pretty cozy. I kneaded the blanket until the folds were just right and then I curled up to have a great, undisturbed sleep. That was definitively a plus to sleeping when my family was sleeping: nobody would wake me up.

One night, Nyla came looking for me and asked me to follow her. She went in her room and sat on the bed, then patted the space next to her – she would do this sort of thing when she wanted me

to sit beside her. Not really doing anything important at that moment, I jumped onto the bed and joined her. She listened to music, while rubbing behind my ears, and I purred in tacit consent until I started to get sleepy. Sometime later, she shimmied down to lie on her side and scooped me up, so I was nestled close to her chest. We fell asleep like this. She smelled of coconut and vanilla – not two scents I would have described as enjoyable, but on her, the combination was pleasant. Neither one of us made a big deal about it, but we did this every night after that.

I could get used to this.