Excuse us, began one of the officers, but this lady claims your cat jumped onto her balcony, attacked her, and then stole her kitten
Let me tell you about certain buildings in England, especially in places like Manchester or Liverpool, known as corner flats. Theyre those unusual blocks where two wings join at a perfect right angle, creating flats that meet almost tip-to-tip. If their balconies look inward, then right in the corner theyre so close, you could almost reach across barely more than a metre apart.
Now, our story happens in such a building.
A married couple who lived on the fifth floor were coming home from work one evening. They worked at the same company, so every day they commuted together in their Ford Fiesta, sharing stories about their boss and the bottomless cups of tea in the office kitchen.
As they crossed the communal garden, they spotted a group of stray dogs harassing a scruffy ginger tomcat. The residents, including this couple, often left bits of chicken or leftover fish for the local cats. The man rushed over, waving his arms and shooing the dogs away. The cat wasnt dead, thankfully, but hed taken a beating. The couple scooped him up, bundled him in a spare jumper, and hurried to the car.
At the nearest vets surgery, the cat was cleaned, stitched up, given a drip with saline and vitamins, and given an antibiotic injection. He was ordered back for a daily check-up and more jabs for a week.
And so, thats how the cat whom they called Dennis came to live with them.
Why Dennis? Well, he looked every inch a tough customer, like someone youd see in a gritty London gangster film. But, as it turned out, Dennis quickly melted in the warmth of their home. Within days, he was stretched out on a soft fleece on the sofa, purring so loudly youd think hed swallowed a tractor engine, and rolling his eyes in bliss as the woman scratched his belly.
Look at him such a spoiled thing, she laughed, tickling Dennis fluffy tummy.
He winced a little his wounds still twinged but he kept purring happily. He really liked it there.
Over time, Dennis filled out, his fur grew glossy, and soon he was found most evenings asleep across their knees. The memories of his harsh street life the cold, the deprivation, the constant fear faded into the background, as though it had all been a very bad dream.
He particularly loved perching on the edge of the balcony, peering over the garden and watching pigeons strut about. He had no desire to wander out into the world again; he understood now what freedom had cost him.
The neighbouring balconies never interested him until one quiet morning, a kitten appeared on the almost-touching balcony next door. A tiny, pampered thing: snow-white, with a pink bow round its neck.
Privileged little creature What would he know of hardship? Dennis scoffed, with a flick of his tail and a scornful sniff, turning away.
But the next day, a strange whimpering caught Denniss attention. He crept closer. The sound came from the pampered ones balcony.
The kitten was huddled in a corner, quietly crying.
Oi! Dennis called. Whats up, then? Food not posh enough for you?
The kitten flinched, pressing up tighter to the wall, staring fearfully at the large, rugged tomcat.
Why are you crying? Dennis tried again, not unkindly.
The kitten whispered, still hiding, She hit me with her slipper Do you know how much that hurts?
Dennis had never encountered slippers as weapons. Hed found a family who adored him, forgave him everything, and never raised a hand. But pain: that he remembered very well.
With a slipper? Why?
I mewed a bit too early this morning. I was a bit peckish.
And? Dennis asked, appalled.
She hit me for it. And shouted
Dennis fell silent, watching as the kitten trembled in the corner, too scared even to whimper.
Does she hit you often? Dennis asked gently.
Almost always, the kitten sniffled. If I make any noise or do anything silly. She doesnt love me He sniffed again. But she brags to her friends on the phone about how expensive I am. That I cost a fortune. I dont know what expensive means
Dennis did. His human would sometimes stroke him and say, Youre my precious boy.
But here, the word meant something else entirely.
He frowned, deeply troubled. He pitied the little one. Out in the wild, Dennis would have known what to do. But now? Now he was a pampered housecat. What was he supposed to do?
A few minutes later, the little one was called in by a screeching voice. He flattened his ears and tail, and left a nervous little puddle on the concrete before scampering through the open door.
Dennis watched the wet mark, flashing back to his own past how once, as a kitten, hed been so terrified of a huge dog hed wet himself.
From then on, Dennis spent much of his time sitting out on the balcony. He learned the kittens regal-sounding name was Sterling. Though Dennis secretly felt Scrawny would have suited him better.
Scrawny lets stick with that grew braver and regularly appeared at the balcony rail, complaining in his little voice:
She said today, he whimpered, if I dont stop making a racket, shell throw me off the balcony. Shes tired of cleaning up after me
Denniss fur bristled. He would often hear his neighbour shrieking at the kitten, hurling insults. Sometimes he shuddered at the unmistakable thud of a slipper meeting the kittens thin body.
Dennis had made up his mind a while ago, but what held him back was fear. Theyll throw me out for this, he thought. Definitely. He couldnt bear the thought of losing the people who had saved him not the cold streets again.
But the thought of the cruel woman actually harming or killing the kitten haunted him.
Then, a few days later, it all came to a head.
Dennis was on the balcony as usual, ears pricked. Shouting echoed from the neighbours flat. By the reflections in the glass, he saw what was happening: the woman hurled herself from her bed, slipper raised, and yelled at the cowering kitten, Ill finish you, you vile beast!
Dennis didnt remember leaping across the gap he just did. In the blink of an eye, he landed on the neighbours balcony.
The woman looked up and was greeted by a vision straight out of her nightmares: a gigantic, battered tomcat, glaring, hissing, and spitting, his fur standing on end and his teeth bared the very image of a devil. To her, flames shot from his mouth and sparks flashed in his eyes.
With a scream, she dropped the slipper, and well, lets just say her pyjamas would need a good wash. She was so frightened she fainted right there on her bed.
Ten minutes later, a frantic knock sounded at the couples front door. The neighbour, hair wild, face pale, shrieked, Your cat attacked me! He scratched me and stole my very expensive kitten! Im calling the police!
Madam, replied the man evenly. Our cat has been here, inside, all evening. We dont have your kitten.
Her face twisted with rage. She looked as if she wanted to shout more, but all that came out was a bitter hiss. She stormed off, slamming her door so hard the whole landing shook.
Ten minutes after that, two police officers arrived, the neighbour following, ranting breathlessly.
Sorry for the trouble, began one of the constables. But this lady says your cat jumped onto her balcony, attacked her, and kidnapped her kitten
What? the couple answered in unison, wide-eyed with disbelief.
Please, officers, come inside and see for yourselves. Dennis hasnt left the flat all day. No kitten here, the man said calmly.
They all walked in. Sure enough, Dennis lay sprawled on the sofa, dozing like a king.
Thats him! Thats the one! the neighbour shrieked. He assaulted me and stole my Sterling!
Sorry he stole what exactly? the confused police asked. Your cat took your sterling?
Are you daft?! My kitten is called Sterling!
The officers raised their eyebrows and stepped out onto the balcony.
Thats almost two metres, one of them remarked.
And youre saying this cat jumped that gap with a kitten in its mouth? the other added dryly.
You dont believe me?! screamed the neighbour. She darted about, yanking open cupboards and drawers, flinging laundry from the bed, desperately hunting for her missing kitten.
The police carefully helped her to a chair.
Madam, youre causing quite a mess. The owners have the right to press charges for damage like this, said one, sternly.
What? Press charges? After what their monster did to me?!
Speaking of which, the other officer said with a frown, can you show us your injuries, please?
The neighbour faltered, glanced down, and then snapped, Ill see you all in court, just wait!
Im sorry, said the woman of the flat politely, but theres a rather strong smell of, er, urine Would you mind getting up off my stool, please?
The neighbours eyes widened. She flushed bright red, then green, and finally turned ashen pale. She shot out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.
Would you like to file a report? the officers asked, kindly.
No, replied the couple firmly and in unison.
Shes clearly not herself, the wife added softly.
Thank you for your patience, said the officers, and left quietly.
The couple exchanged glances with Dennis, now awake and sitting upright on the sofa.
Right then, lets see the man began.
Yes, lets echoed the woman.
Dennis looked up contritely, then hopped down and walked to the wardrobe. With a practiced claw, he hooked the door open, scrambled onto the shelf, and gently fished out, from beneath a pile of towels a trembling, silver-grey kitten.
My goodness the couple breathed together.
They both sat down heavily on the sofa.
Dennis padded over and laid the quivering little bundle at their feet.
So what do we do now? the woman asked, carefully picking up the kitten and settling it in her lap.
The scrawny kitten shuddered and shrank into the warmth.
Dont be frightened, little one, the man reassured him.
We never hurt cats, the woman said, stroking the kittens back gently. Then she turned to Dennis. And as for you, mister youre in trouble. Thats not how we solve things not at all. There must have been another way.
Oh? asked her husband. He saved the kitten from that old witch. Isnt that worth some praise?
Anyway, we dont have a kitten you heard the police yourself, he joked.
The woman sighed, addressing the kitten, Always the old boys club, isnt it? Maybe youll want to reward him too?
Of course! A reward! grinned the man. Come on, Dennis, lets get you some chicken.
Unbelievable, the woman said indignantly, as if asking the kitten to agree.
But to her surprise, the kitten stretched out timidly, curled his paws around her warm hand, and pressed his tiny head to her fingers.
The woman smiled, her earlier annoyance fading. Alright then forgiven this time.
The man and Dennis departed for the kitchen, while the rescued kitten curled up on the womans lap, purring softly. At last, he began to understand how comforting a gentle stroke could be.
He also pondered the meaning of the word precious. In his new home, in the caring words of this kind lady, precious sounded very different indeed.
Sometimes, the love we give is the only thing that truly makes something and someone precious.
