The Last Dying Thoughts of Puddles, Lighthouse cat

It is 7 am on the clock in the humans room. I have been unfed for at least one hour. Despite my cries the human does not heed them. Today will be my last day and I will starve on this wretched island. The others seem not to care. Dewbell is eating his favorite plant and Raindrop is asleep on the human’s bed. 

I feel in my throat a wad of hair--the last one I will ever leave the human. I know that I must leave it in a space for the human to find. I decide upon the entry to the house. I vomit it up right in the doorway for them to step on. Perhaps if they step on it they will remember that I am starving and dying. 

I cannot leave this wretched life without visiting one last place of love. I dart out of the house through an open window and down to the lonely beaches. Between the rocks and sand there is a small patch of grass which grows in the summer. I will lay on it and rub it into my fur one last time before I perish.

I speak with Dewbell, the dullard. He is still chewing happily on the plant in the pot. He seems unconcerned that the human intends to starve us and tells me to find food elsewhere. 

It has been ages since any of the rats have been in the house. They avoid the place. I was told by the elders that sometimes they would enter through the tunnels under the house but to never go into the basement for only death awaits. 

Dewbell did offer some of the plant for me to eat but it is disgusting and bitter. He will be of no help to me .

I returned inside to my patrol of the home. I do not enter the lighthouse, for it is Raindrop’s duty to examine it, as mine is the home. Dewbell is supposed to search the island, but as a fool he thinks only of his own mundane pleasures. 

I enter the kitchen first and stare forlornly at my ball under the stove. The metal is cold now and I stick my paws under it trying to reach it, but as every day I cannot. I cry and cry to the human but they cannot understand me and my most precious possession remains out of my paws. 

I enter the bedroom next. I stalk the shelves and windows and under the bed. Nothing, no mice, no rats, no other creatures for me to eat. 

The human enters the house as patrol the hallway. They reach down and scratch my ears. How can they show me such affection while they starve me? They begin to rub my back and then my belly but they will not! I screech and dart out of the room. 

I settle into one of the storage rooms to wash myself of the human’s stink. I clean my thick orange and black fur and curse all of those who snubbed me at my kitten home. I could have been a happy fat cat in a shop but no one wanted someone with mundane fur so I am cursed to live in this wretched lighthouse. 

For my last patrol I encircled the house. Outside the human has fish drying on racks. This will be my key to survival. It is up high and away from other obstacles for me to use as platforms but I will find a way to eat. I will not starve upon this island.

I feel myself growing worn and thin from starvation. I need to rest in the glory of the sun, but today is an accursed day. The clouds cover the sky and from the human’s bed there is nothing but shadows. But still I lay upon the blankets, licking clean again my poor body. I can feel the hair grow thin under my tongue. 

I look up to the window and see the clouds and begin to sing the deep song of the sun. I know the others will not join me for they do not take my peril seriously. They do not understand how we have been abandoned. I will sing for my future and for my ancestors and for the sun, may it shine again on my frail body!

We are under siege! Against the window there was a loud clambering, and I know that the one who cursed the bones is back! I hear it chiming and clanging outside but I will not let it claim me! I have retreated under the bed for safety. I know that it will not find me here and it cannot Decide I am theirs.

I return to the bathroom to find glory upon glory! The paper roll has been left unattended and I will continue my artistic endeavors. I reach my claws out and pull and pull from it with the fury of my starving body! I will not be forgotten and this mound will represent the difficulties I have overcome and the suffering that has been wrought upon me. 

Unfortunately before I had completed my monument the human stumbled upon it. They grabbed me with their accursed thumbs and brought me into the kitchen near the fireplace.

They soothed me and told me that they needed to brush me because of my hairballs. Fool. I need food not love, though it is nice to have the brush through my fur. They rake it gently across me and remove all of the excess and dander my tongue could not. I do not understand this human. Clearly they show me love through all actions except food. 

I purr at them and they brush me gently again and again. I am grateful but I know that I cannot last. Dewbell still believes he has nine lives, the buffoon. He has not known the taste of seawater and the salt in his lungs. The human has saved me from the dangers of the sea but they won’t save me from the dangers of my own stomach. 

They stroke me and call me “Pud,” a charmingly puerile nick-name for an idiotic human. The others dare not call me that for I will show them how fast my claws are. The human kisses me and takes me outside. I look up at the fish drying on the racks one last time. How can life be so cruel to show me salvation just out of my reach?

I am sniffing the box again. The one the human doesn’t want others to find. They hid it well, under another box in the back of storage. I know what it is and I know what they have done. I saw in the dead of night and heard the screams and cries and saw the blood. I felt the bones move and smelled them starting to grow. I sit now in front of the box and wonder what they will do with it. 

The human went out today in the small boat to the big island. This was before the brushing of course. I only notice now the thick cloth sacks they have placed in the kitchen. I smell around them but nothing interests me. Mostly smelly herbs, maybe to cover up the smell of the mess downstairs. Nothing in it smells tasty or exciting, so it is beneath me to scrounge.

The human is putting away the new things in the kitchen. They are ignoring my cries for food and rubs against their legs. I jump up high onto the shelf. There is a jar of rice, small bottles of spices, and several piles of change. I reach with my paw and scatter the coins upon the floor. The human curses and shoos me down from the shelf. They should know better than to let me starve. 

I watch them pick up every little coin from the floor, from safe under one of the chairs. Outside there is a gull screeching to the wind. I leave the human and dart out through the window to watch it. Will this be the last time I hear one of those infernal birds crying? Perhaps it is comforting to some, but I cannot help but hope that it falls dead for me to eat. 

I leap into one of the crates by the house. I can feel it’s old and cracked wood between my toes and I settle into the tarp on it’s edge. Will this be the last time I sleep on my box? Who will claim it after I have perished? I doubt Dewbell has the capacity to appreciate it and Raindrop has no need for luxuries. Will I be replaced by a new kitten when I am done?

I awoke after a short nap, feeling my body purring in my sleep. I stop myself and wonder if this is the last little bit of joy I will have before my body will waste away. Will the human miss my purrs? They have brought great ease to their frightful days. Do they truly deserve such ease while I waste away in their presence? 

I think back to my dear friend, Snowflake, the elder. It has been many years since their passing and I hope to see them in the catfterlife. They were my beloved mentor and a finer hunter than I will ever be. I still remember the day in which we both caught a weakfish. Snowflake sunk their fangs deep into its flesh and brought it ashore after I had lured it towards her. I have never caught something so large since. 

Neither Dewbell or Raindrop are capable of hunting with me like Snowflake could. 

I excuse myself from my box to do my business outside in the dirt. I ponder as I bury it if I too will be beneath the ground soon like Snowflake. I never did know what happened to her body but I saw the human with their shovel and the box they rested in. It is unfair and I scream into the ocean about my sorrow. I scream and scream and run all the way back into the house. 

Surely they will see how I am suffering, they will comfort me because they love me! They have to love me! I run to them and see them eating their own food. They will give me some, I think as I jump up on their lap. They have to,  I think as I reach out to bite the cheese in their hand. But I am unloved. I am scooped up and placed on the floor. I cry and scream and all they do is stroke my face. How can they be like this? Why do they enjoy seeing me tormented?

I see the human get up to leave and I follow them. I will not let them rest and I scream in hunger as I follow them to the bathroom. They shove me away with their foot and close the door in my face. I will not relent. I will be fed. I will not starve on this wretched island. I stick my paws under the door and scream and scream. I feel them poke the center of my toes and I curl my claws up to scratch them but they are out of reach. They laugh at my torment before they open the door for me. 

I ran inside only to see them leaving towards the hallway and into the office. I will not relent!! They sit upon their desk and I jump on it too and rub my face against their cheek. I am greeted with kisses but no food. They place me into their lap and unfold their log-book, the one they have been editing to keep their bloody secrets. I paw at the pen in their hand but they hold me in place with their other one and I am held still from their work.

When the human has finished they hold me tight and kiss my face. I can see how much the last two days have worn on them. They seem more sad than they should be. I let them hold me and despite myself I do purr for them. They scratch behind my ears and under my chin then hold each of my little paws. 

I can see the paw pads and how they have faded from their former glory. I don’t think the human notices how much they have diminished from starvation. I think back to when they were in their glory days, firm and soft, now cracked and hardened from want of food. 

I leave my human as I have had enough of their false care. I know the truth: they do not love me and they wish for me to starve. I leap from the desk to the window outside to see the boats pass by. 

One by one they pass but I do not let them know. They are a poor record keeper and will not even amend their records to show these new boats. Perhaps they will be replaced soon and I will be tended by someone who will show me the affection I deserve.

The human has left to retrieve their washing from the lines outside. I follow them and sit in the basket after the first set has been folded. 

I will have to start claiming these as my own before the other two can release their fur onto them. Of course the human has taken issue with this and shoos me out of the basket while they place more of their clothes into it. 

I rush off back into the house to clean myself again from their stench. I ponder about the door to the home and shudder as I lick the small scar on my tail. That damn door shut itself on me once and I will never forget it. This is why I prefer to exit and enter through the windows, it will always be much safer. 

The human returns inside. They take from the cupboard a small ration of fish, place it onto a plate and call me over. 

I scream all the way over as it is placed in front of me. Food, glorious beautiful food. I inhale it into my starving body, barely pausing to taste the salty fish. I am saved… for now.