The Narrative Arc | Our Beloved Pets Writing Competition May 2023

My Cat Came From the Forest and Brought More Than a Sense of the Wild to Me

A story about a depressed college student and a feral kitten.

I was a depressed junior in college, lacking direction, seeing little purpose in waking up to attend classes I figured would only lead me to the unemployment line when one of my housemates called me.

He was driving with his girlfriend on a nearby road and they saw a pack of kittens at the edge of some deep woods. Did I want to join them in going back with a box and some canned tuna?

Yes, why not. Any impetus that I didn’t have to control could whisk me away at this point in my life. So, I went in the car, holding the box and cans of tuna.

We arrived. There they were: four baby kittens at the edge of a forest, starving, scared, and as mangy as any of us would be if we spent four weeks in the woods.

The kittens looked about four weeks old. Their parents, three adult cats, stood off near a dense patch of trees, too wary of humans at their age to risk the chance at the food we were offering.

We opened the tuna, placed the cans in the box, and stood back. Their little noses sniffed like crazy, their little bodies creeping forward, though with fear in their eyes. The larger cats didn’t dare approach, their fear overriding their hunger.

All the kittens fit in the box, munching away. We closed the flaps and carried it to the backseat, a little tussle shaking it back and forth. This might read as mean or insensitive, but we had no other idea as to how we could get these kittens back to our house.

And then

I had an empty closet, we put all four in it and created a barrier so they wouldn’t escape at night.

They were scared. But as the days went by, and more friends came over to visit them, the kittens grew more comfortable, though to varying degrees.

Like when we had to give them all flea baths. I had to go to class with scratch marks all over my hands, it looked like I’d burned myself.

Living in a small room with four kittens in the closet was quite the experience. Since only a cardboard divider separated them from me, I heard all their noises and would often catch their eye. They watched me with decreasing anxiety, realizing I was their protector, not some threat.

Two friends took two home as pets. My housemate and his girlfriend took another — there was one left.

Another friend of ours, an irresponsible kid who liked to follow the crowd, very loudly made a claim on the last kitten. He was apparently preparing to take him home, even buying a litter box, he told me and my housemates.

But it would be a few days. So, it was me and this kitten in my room until then.

The following day, I was on my laptop, sitting at a makeshift desk I made from a chair and bookcase when this kitten jumped onto the chair next to me. He had such an inquisitive look and he started vibrating.

I immediately grew concerned, thinking something was wrong. What defect in a cat would cause this noise? I knew nothing about cats. Since he was a feral kitten, I worried something from the woods had harmed him.

I started petting him, speaking kindly, feeling he may not even understand his condition.

And I fell in love with him.

From that day forward, instead of cowering in his closet, he would snuggle in bed with me when I turned the lights out, or nestle in the crook of my arm when I read. He would even paw the book out of my hands if I wasn’t paying him enough attention.

I told our annoying friend that I was keeping the cat. He made an obnoxious show out of it because he didn’t want to seem lame to our group, but I was persistent.

And he let off. So the cat stayed with me.

And now

He found me just as much as I found him.

My cat has been such a loving presence in my life. The joys of his meows and his legs rubs have shown me a love so deep and powerful. He’s twelve and a half and still is as frisky as he was at two and a half.

I pamper him, making sure he gets all the attention he deserves. Not a day goes by where he isn’t acknowledged as only a family member should be acknowledged.

I look back on this time and remember how fragile the situation was. No job or prospect of stable income meant I had to ask my parents for some money to feed and support this kitten, which they happily provided.

Soon after, I got a job as a tutor, mentoring first-generation college students who didn’t speak English as their first language. I felt inspired by the good work, but also motivated to earn some money so I could care for this living, breathing cute creature.

I graduated, an entire semester early, because I discovered an interest to take multiple summer classes, while also spending my evenings as a prep cook at a busy local restaurant. My cat brought me some of this energy through his happy presence.

The rest of my story is too detailed to tell, but I’m proud of that story. The positive details missing from my narrative wouldn’t have been possible if not for the love shown to me by my cat from the forest.

Anyone who has ever corralled a feral cat before knows the terror in their eyes at your approach. Overcoming that barrier is such a special experience, creating a unique bond.

If you’ve been debating rescuing a pet, do it. Patience and kindness are required, but the bond you’ll create is one of the true rewards of life.