Farewell Caramel

 Tawny, striped and so very good-looking – that was my Caramel. He had the most musical of meows. He had this undefinable connection with me. He could almost read my mind. He suffered being carried by an overly-loving Appu. He adored Mahi so much that he would sleep at her feet most nights.

My lap misses the tangible warm weight of the furry body curled close to me. I will never again feel him cuddling against me when I work. I won’t ever see his crazy cat poses as he shows off his cute tummy and purrs away in ecstasy. I won’t ever hear that questioning meow first thing in the morning when he’s hungry and can’t wait for me to get up. My husband used to say that I was far more patient with Caru and his madness than I was with my own children. I replied saying - He is my youngest child – the one I had in my old age – so yes I am indulgent ;)

 I do not know now if he exists or not. My heart tells me that if he was alive, he would have found his way home to me some way or the other. So in all likelihood they have ended his life. But I still wait.

He was a dominant and utterly masculine chap. Three of the neighbours is this god-awful complex hosting a plenitude of brittle, selfish, arrogant characters decided that his depredations against their cats earned him the punishment of exile. After several months of trying everything from neutering to attempted lockdown, I gave up. I didn’t want to be hounded every day. They threatened to poison him. People stopped me while I was walking at night or going to the grocery shop or trying to deal with my usual difficult days. Why? Just to harangue me endlessly about Caru. And I am ashamed to admit – I gave up.

They took him away when I wasn’t there. I couldn’t say goodbye. I understand that these people are incapable of love towards anyone other than their own but how can they hate an animal with such vehemence? How can a cat fighting with a cat be equated with a so-called human being making a conscious choice to hurt a defenceless animal? Writing to CUPA, asking an animal welfare oriented neighbour to intervene, messaging the ‘courageous’ husband  next door (an animal lover apparently)  who accused Caru of hurting him when he hurt himself running away from a cat (yeah and they sent me pics showing a scratch – such a manly man!) – nothing worked even though all I asked for was a photograph to show my children that Caru was ok.

 I tried all these mediations because the lady in question was abusive beyond limits – to me of course but also to my daughter who went with sobs locked in her throat to ask angrily for the address of the farmhouse where he was supposedly sent. She refused to give it to her. While talking to the lady myself, I put her on speaker and a friend who heard it all asked me in palpable shock – how can she be as cruel as this – I didn’t know she had such a side to her? I gave her a wry smile.

For some reason I am the litmus paper – the one who sees through fake smiles and lies, the one who cannot understand why superficial people seem to do so well in life, the one who bears the burden of truth.

But there is karma. Hurting an animal, much like hurting a child, will bring its own consequences. The power to hurt frequently goes side by side with the power of money. Instead of making a small change for the better, people who can afford it prefer to make things better only for themselves. There is no tolerance, no patience, no empathy in this place. One day, they will know what it is like to feel as if a piece of your heart has been torn away. I won’t forget. Or forgive.

 My children cried themselves to sleep for a week. Mahi still can’t talk about it. And I have never forgiven myself for not fighting more. I have wished more than once that I had the support to fight harder but I don’t. And that taught me one valuable lesson – your battles are your own and so is your journey. Being alone is just one more thing to get used to. Maybe that is why I miss my cat so very much. He loved me unconditionally. I won't get that again.