Ponderosa

I had lived on the streets as long as I could remember.  When I crossed over Timberline Drive that night and onto Ponderosa Lane, none of my experiences helped explain what I was seeing.  It was a bowl full of food, just sitting on the sidewalk.  Nobody loses a bowl of food, so I knew better than to dive right in.  I kept watch for awhile and there was no one around.  Cautiously, I inched closer, ate feverishly, then crossed back over Timberline in a hurry.

I couldn’t believe my luck.  That evening, I asked around my neighborhood to see if anyone else had ever heard of such a thing.  Most I talked to were as bewildered by it as I was, some offered paranoid warnings, and the rest didn’t believe me. 

I started to visit Ponderosa every evening around the same time.  The first couple of nights all I found was the empty bowl.  On the third night, to my astonishment, it had been filled again.  Again, I waited and watched.  Again, I crept closer and ate feverishly.  Before I knew what was happening, something was covering my head and I was tossed into the back of a van. 

It was a brief and terrifying drive.  My captors took me to a holding cell where I waited in silence.  I wondered what would come next and negotiated the flood of questions in my head.  Eventually, a man brought me water, but left immediately without speaking to me or answering my desperate questions.  I was left there in the dark wondering where I was, who these people were, and what they wanted with me.  I laid down in defeat and began to blame myself.  After I worked through that, I got angry and cried out into the night, daring the cowards to face me.

I awoke to find a man in white and a needle in my arm.  I tried to form the words to ask what was happening, but quickly faded out of consciousness.  When I came to, I was in a new room.  It was bigger and brighter and had some cheap paintings and window.  I felt simultaneously exhausted and as though I had been sleeping for days.  When I tried to stand up, I felt a sharp pinch between my legs and winced as I saw the bandage. 

“Don’t start messing with that,” a voice spoke, startling me.  “Excuse me?  Who are you?  What’s going on here?” I demanded.  “The bandage.  If you mess with it, they’ll put a cone on your head.  Have you ever seen a hairless cat with a cone on its head?  It’s not a good look,” the stranger explained.  “You’re new to the Colony.  Best not to start things off that way,” he continued.  “The Colony?” I asked.  “The Ponderosa Cat Colony.  My name is Marlon.  They like to pair the new recruits with someone who has been here for awhile to ease the transition into the general population.  I’ve suggested not starting with the surprise neutering, but they don’t listen to me.  They took a piece of your ear, too, by the way.”  I was struggling to take it all in. 

“Can we back up a minute?  What is a Cat Colony?” I pleaded.  Marlon explained, “A lady that lives at the end of the street traps the neighborhood cats, spays or neuters us, and then lets us hang out here as long as we want.  She feeds us and talks to us, and if you play your cards right, she’ll let you inside to watch Judge Judy.”  On one hand, I wanted to bite someone or shred a couch cushion, but it was starting to sound pretty nice compared to how life had been the past several months.  “What if I want to leave?” I wondered.  “After you’ve healed up, you’ll be free to go whenever you want, but I wouldn’t rush it.  The food is pretty good, there are plenty of places to nap, and there are enough of us here to keep the dogs away.  Let me introduce you to some of my friends when they let us out of here and then go from there,” Marlon offered. 

I laid back down and looked at the wall, then the window, then the wall, then the window, then I licked my left paw.  I thought I saw a bug.

--Written for “Reminds Me of Human Beings”