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I love cats, because after all they were part of my childhood and adolescence. Here are some stories:
>Several years ago when I still went to secondary school, my former history teacher had a pet cat. One day the tacher gave us our now corrected essays about some historical subject back. When she came to a friend of mine she apologized and said something like “Looks like my cat played with my homework!” To show her student what she meant by that she showed the girl her now damaged booklet and explained that as it seems her cat had managed to get into her owner’s working room. There the animal picked up the next best booklet – in this case the one of my friend – and played with it. Of course my friend accepted her teacher’s apologies. In fact she was rather amused. Huh! We all were.
>The grandparents of another friend of mine have a farm. One day a pregnant straying cat came to them and gave birth to two kittens in their barn. By chance this friend of mine and her parents decided to pay a visit to her grandparents at around this time and she – the friend of mine – was eager to tame the cats. Their mother was afraid of humans and ran whenever she saw one, so the friend of mine just focused on her two cubs. Patiently she waited until these two little animals would crawl out of their nest. Finally they came out and she allowed them to sniff her, touch her with their paws and in the end she even dared to pet them. This way these two little fellows got used to men and when they were old enough to leave their mum, my friend picked them up and brought them to her grandparents’ house. If I remember her words correctly, they became very tame and friendly towards humans, but also a little mischevious…They sometimes loved jumping on the girl’s back when she expected it the least, sometimes giving her a good scare.
>A relative of mine got a male former street cat when she was still a girl. She named him Jackson – after Michael Jackson. The only thing troubling her was that her brother had some pet mice, so the door to the boy’s room was always locked carefully. One day however Jackson managed to get into this room and encountered the mice. However he didn’t harm them. He put his paw into their cage and to defend themselves the mice bit him, but Jackson didn’t do any harm to them in return. He just sat there, watched the mice and played with them until someone found him and took him out of this room. What a peaceful cat!
>The village I live in has a story that meanwhile nearly is a legend: When I was a kid people often saw a white cat with brown and black spots on our graveyard. Nobody knows where he came from. All we know is that nobody saw him outside the gates of this graveyard. The legend goes that he once belonged to an elder lady. When she died the cat didn’t want to leave her, so he followed her. At first he followed her to the morgue and when they buried her, he never moved too far away from her grave. They say that from that day on he only fed on mice, birds and on the food some people who knew this story sometimes brought to him onto the graveyard. I can’t tell you whether this story is true or false. All i know is that whenever I went to the graveyard when I was a child, he was there and we sometimes played. I remember one event in particular. My mother and me once went to the graveyard. I wanted to pet him when he obviously just wanted to be left alone. My mum told me to leave him alone, but I didn’t listen. I was just a child, I just wanted to play. In the end the cat had enough of my petting and he scratched me not too hard. It didn’t even bleed, but that was enough to make me shreek back. “See, I told you to leave him alone”, said my mother. I tried to play the situation down and replyed:”Why? I’m sure he just wanted to pet me back…with his claws.”
I learned my lesson that day.
>Another friend of mine once wanted a cat, but her mother said no. So one day she just sneeked out of the house, bought a little kitten and put it in a basket. The basket she put in the kitchen and when her mother came home to cook something the little animal already was out of the basket and curiously explored her new surroundings. At first the friend’s mother was upset of course, but then again she found that little fellow so incredibly cute and in the end the friend was allowed to keep her pet.
>I have several friends, so this story is about another friend of mine: She and her family once adopted two former stray kittens from a shelter. If I remember correctly these two actually were from Italy or maybe Spain, but a German aid-organization took them to Germany, because some – not all – shelters in Italy and Spain gas strays of they don’t find a home within a few weeks, while German shelters usually don’t. Anyway they ended up being the pets of this family and one of them – named Toulouse after a French city – later befriended the male cat of my friend’s German teacher. We found out, because sometimes Toulouse followed the other cat to his master’s home and there the teacher identified him as my friend’s pet thanks to its collar that said where Toulouse’s home is.
>In Germany the following video clip is considered funny: Some years ago when the weather reporter of a German TV channel wanted to announce the weather for the following few days, you could see something moving on the floor. The spectators got confused, because you could see a part of its ears and the top of it’s tail, but nobody knew what exactly was going on there. In the end the reported picked up a cat and apologized. According to him this was the pet cat of this television studio and actually it wasn’t supposed to be in this room.
P.S. I read somewhere that having a own pet (not forcibly a cat or a dog, but just any pet) affects children and adolescents in the sense of affecting their maturity. Underage people who have a pet usually mature faster and easier according to the book I read. Thus I may thank my friends’ pet cats for helping them to become the great people they are.
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