Grimalkin

We had assumed that Jordan was a male. Jordan was our cat. I don't
know what else I can call it. It lived in our house and ate our food.
It looked like a male with evil, scheming eyes and a tendency to strike
at any thing that challenged it. But then, it began to have its own
kittens. We did not change its name. But he always remained a
suspicious character. It never stayed in the house when expected to.
When cat-loving guests visited we could hardly show Jordan off. She was
not to be found anywhere. And when she came it lived up to the other
name that had been given to her. 'Paws'. There was reason for such
nomenclature. Whenever any of us, we or the guests, put our feet on the
ground Jordan would scratch the helpless thing with her sharp claws.
Why she did this was not known. We had always been good to her and fed
her the fish she liked. Despite this Jordan did not like guests in the
house. When guests came Jordan became 'Paws'. We always believed that
Jordan was a mild cat. And that she liked us. Whenever she had kittens
we would wait till the little ones could fend for themselves. When we
were sure that they were capable of surviving independently we got into
the act. We would put the kittens into a porous jute bag and take the
bag to the nearby lake. The mouth of the bag would be opened there and
the kittens allowed to escape. Strangely enough, the kittens never
tried to come back. Jordan was never angry with us for separating her
from her children. In fact she was a loner. She always liked her own
corner and rarely allowed any of us to touch the cardboard box she
slept in. My mother gave her food everyday and only she was allowed to
change the box every once in a while. My belief was that Jordan had a
queer sense of humour. When she was only a kitten she had got trapped
in a tree. That is to say that she had climbed a tree and was scared of
jumping down from it. Well, we did what we could. The fire brigade was
called. A soft-looking fireman climbed the tree and tried to persuade
Jordan to come to his arms. Jordan took one sharp look at the policeman
and then jumped down to the ground, quite nonchalantly. People were
concerned that she was hurt. We called a vet and he was happy to
declare that Jordan had not suffered even a scratch. Jordan always had
many boyfriends. And they would always come at night after we had all
gone to sleep. There were two bulky tomcats who regularly fought for
Jordan's attention. We would hear a lot of threatening roars and
screams at night. In the morning we would see the injured cats and
immediately know what had happened. The tomcats had no definite owners
and never received any medical attention.
When Jordan was five years old, our city was hit by a terrible flood.
For fifteen days we had heavy, relentless rain. We lived on the ground
floor and the rooms at the lower levels became flooded. Our house had
many rat-holes. The rats who lived in these holes had no option but to
come out. The rats not only bit us, they ruined our food and made holes
in our clothes. We were exasperated. The streets were flooded and
calling the pest-control people was out of question. It was at this
time that Jordan swung into action. He began to eat the rats. The more
he ate, the more of them appeared from their burrows. Jordan ate so
many rats that in five days it became clear that he was putting on
weight. We did not know Jordan's language, so we could not ask him to
stop. And then it happened.
At the end of fifteen days the rain stopped. The water began to subside
too. In the morning my mother found Jordan near the front door. Still
and dead. The vet only confirmed our suspicion. Jordan had died of
overeating. In doing what he did Jordan saved our food, our clothes,
probably our life too. We remember you Jordan. You loved us and we
offered very little in return. You were the best companion we ever
had.