The biscuit siblings

Last Thursday, a strange situation happened in my planet of cats that could be easily classified under melodrama/comic. It was 9 o’clock in the morning (cat’s breakfast time) when I went out and served the usual cats’ biscuits on the famous take away plates (most of our visitors find it hilarious. Why not scatter the food on the ground instead of this grand fe-line buffet?). I went in again to finish other chores when I heard a high pitch meowing.

This was normal, the cats were either fighting over the plates or announcing the arrival of THE hateful Mr Pyjama (the giant Tom who threatened everyone with his weird meow and head tilt before stealing their plate). But this meow was different, whoever was meowing was in great pain.

I left whatever in hand and decided to go out to investigate, and was met by a strange scene. Borsa — a visitor cat who came only to feed and who’s heavily pregnant — was lying on her side in the middle of the yard with over turned biscuit plates around her. A closer look revealed that she was lying on a colourful bed of scattered biscuits and attacking anyone trying to get close.

I frowned trying to analyse her strange behaviour and it hit me: Borsa was in labour. Unfortunate for the other cats, Borsa had decided to suffer the agony among their food. The cats were starving and all they cared about was getting their breakfast.

It was an impossible mission of course as Borsa had turned aggressive (understandable in human logic but not in cat’s!). I sighed and decided to intervene, hoping to turn this melodrama into a win-win situation for both parties (Borsa and the famished cats).

I decided to venture and get close to where she was splayed — praying to God that she wouldn’t attack me. In normal days, Borsa would always keep a fair distance between us. Now, I squatted next to her and she started meowing in pain. It was the first time ever for me to witness a cat in labour.

My unspayed strays always got pregnant, disappeared for a day, reappeared with a flat tummy and brought their kittens home when they’re big enough to eat. I wasn’t really sure what to do. I felt sorry for her and started gathering the scattered kibbles on the plates again.

The starving cats found their courage again and decided to come closer, to be attacked again by Borsa. I moved the full plate away for the cats and went back for the rest.

Borsa was now looking at me and howling. I found myself sympathising with her and saying things that I’d usually say to a pregnant woman: “May Allah make it easier for you!” or “It will pass!”. She seemed to have relaxed a bit and she placed her head on the ground, nibbling kibbles that were within her reach.

It must be hard to be in labour yet starving! Borsa then decided to take a walk around. She even dug a hole before going back to lying again on the same spot (to other cats’ anxious dismay!). She repeated the same cycle for almost an hour, before disappearing for good.

I sighed in relief and the cats relaxed, enjoying whatever was left of their dirtied breakfast.

Borsa came back the following evening with a flat tummy and a better mood! With the scene of her lying on the kibbles in mind, I picked worthy names for her kittens: Oreo, ... and Wafer. I’m looking forward meeting them and sharing the secret behind their names!

Rasha al Raisi is a certified skills trainer and the author of: The World According to Bahja. rashabooks@yahoo.com