Skip to main content

Brownie and I - a love affair

The last snap I took of Brownie


That Brownie went away without giving me a hint is what makes her absence so painful. It’s nearly a month and I know now for certain that she won’t return. Worse, I know that she didn’t want to leave me. She couldn’t have.

Brownie is the only creature who could make me do what she wanted. She had the liberty to walk into my bedroom at any time of the night and wake me up for a bite of her favourite food. She would sit below the bed and meow. If I didn’t get up and follow her, she would climb on the bed and meow to my face. She knew I would get up and follow her to the cupboard where bags of cat food were stored. 

My Mistress in my study

Brownie was not my only cat; there were three others. But none of the other three ever made the kind of demands that Brownie made. If any of them came to eat the food I served Brownie at odd hours of the night, Brownie would flatly refuse to eat with them in spite of the fact that it was she who had brought me out of my bedroom. She would give the other cats a contemptuous look and sit far away. She knew I would serve her separately.

Maggie teased me many a time that Brownie was the only creature on earth that could make me toe the line so easily.

The truth is I enjoyed catering to Brownie’s ego. I wasn’t making her feel special, I felt, she was making me feel special. She wouldn’t ever do with anyone else the sort of things she did with me. She made me feel like I was her god though she behaved like a goddess herself. Brownie and I were peers in a realm that stood far beyond human gradations. 

I remember Brownie’s first delivery. She made a lot of fuss when the pains started. I caressed her forehead which she loved. I fondled her belly. I had arranged a spacious carton which I lined with newspapers and soft cloth for her delivery. She couldn’t quite endure all that pain. Or she was puzzled. I don’t know. I left her to herself in the carton and went to bed. Just as I glided into deep slumber, I was woken up by a strange sound. Brownie was there by my side on the bed with a newborn kitten between her teeth. Her sacred gift to me. Then I realised that Brownie was all baffled. She was still to make sense of what was happening, I think.

I took her and her newborn kitten to the place I had prepared for her kittening. It was all a mess. I changed the lining with new papers and cloth and told Brownie that the pain was normal and she had to accept it. She seemed to have understood. She didn’t make an offering of her next two kittens to me on my bed.

Pregnancy was never easy for Brownie. She demanded a lot of attention in the days prior to her subsequent deliveries. She would stand right in front of me with a bowed forehead for days before each delivery. If I didn’t caress her forehead, she would start rubbing it against my body until I became her masseur.

Her last two deliveries altered her character. The kittens were all dead within hours of the delivery in both cases. I don’t know what went wrong. I think Brownie had no milk at all for her newborns. Whatever the cause, Brownie became more aloof from the other cats. She began to hate them. She started spending more time with me. Whenever I was in my study, she would come there and make herself cosy either in my lap or on my table somewhere. 

Superiority Complex

Brownie extracted a lot of my attention and patience. But I was never annoyed. On the contrary, I felt rather proud that an animal, which usually doesn’t care much for humans, entrusted itself to my care. Not many creatures in my acquaintance had ever found me lovable. Brownie deserved an award, I thought. And my unswerving pampering was my award for her.

When she failed to appear in my study as usual one day last month, I went calling her name all over the place. I could sense a horrifying weight descending into my chest.

Many days after her disappearance, someone told Maggie that the dead body of a calico cat was found on the roadside by someone. Nothing was certain. Nobody seemed to know where the body was seen. It must have been a vehicle run-over, that’s all what everyone said. Maggie and I walked on the road for a while. But I knew I had lost Brownie for ever.

The lesson that Brownie taught me is eternal. What you do for someone you love is never a pain or sacrifice. Love is a pleasure, a divine delight. 

Three pics from Brownie's early days




Comments

  1. Your story reminds me of my bond with Bruno, he made me believe in love like no one ever did. We lost him with Sawan. I still feel If I had an individual house and not an apartment, I would have never let him live anywhere else. Now I have a pet of my own and I don’t there is anything more beautiful than being a parent to a pet.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Hari Om
    You have my condolences for the loss of Brownie. YAM xx

    ReplyDelete
  3. Sad to read, Prayers for Brownie ....

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventures of Toto as a comic strip

  'The Adventures of Toto' is an amusing story by Ruskin Bond. It is prescribed as a lesson in CBSE's English course for class 9. Maggie asked her students to do a project on some of the lessons and Femi George's work is what I would like to present here. Femi converted the story into a beautiful comic strip. Her work will speak for itself and let me present it below.  Femi George Student of Carmel Public School, Vazhakulam, Kerala Similar post: The Little Girl

The Little Girl

The Little Girl is a short story by Katherine Mansfield given in the class 9 English course of NCERT. Maggie gave an assignment to her students based on the story and one of her students, Athena Baby Sabu, presented a brilliant job. She converted the story into a delightful comic strip. Mansfield tells the story of Kezia who is the eponymous little girl. Kezia is scared of her father who wields a lot of control on the entire family. She is punished severely for an unwitting mistake which makes her even more scared of her father. Her grandmother is fond of her and is her emotional succour. The grandmother is away from home one day with Kezia's mother who is hospitalised. Kezia gets her usual nightmare and is terrified. There is no one at home to console her except her father from whom she does not expect any consolation. But the father rises to the occasion and lets the little girl sleep beside him that night. She rests her head on her father's chest and can feel his heart...

The Vegetarian

Book Review Title: The Vegetarian Author: Han Kang Translator: Deborah Smith [from Korean] Publisher: Granta, London, 2018 Pages: 183 Insanity can provide infinite opportunities to a novelist. The protagonist of Nobel laureate Han Kang’s Booker-winner novel, The Vegetarian , thinks of herself as a tree. One can argue with ample logic and conviction that trees are far better than humans. “Trees are like brothers and sisters,” Yeong-hye, the protagonist, says. She identifies herself with the trees and turns vegetarian one day. Worse, she gives up all food eventually. Of course, she ends up in a mental hospital. The Vegetarian tells Yeong-hye’s tragic story on the surface. Below that surface, it raises too many questions that leave us pondering deeply. What does it mean to be human? Must humanity always entail violence? Is madness a form of truth, a more profound truth than sanity’s wisdom? In the disturbing world of this novel, trees represent peace, stillness, and nonviol...

The RSS does not exist

An organisation that has 80,000 branches in India does not exist legally in any document. This is the cover story of The Caravan this month. By the way, The Caravan is one of the very few publications that still continues to exist in spite of being overtly critical of Narendra Modi and his Sangh Parivar. The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) is not registered as an organisation under any of the usual Indian registration laws such as the Societies Registration Act or as a trust or company. It functions as an unregistered voluntary organisation, though it is arguably the largest public organisation in the country. This situation makes the organisation absolutely unaccountable to anyone, argues The Caravan . The RSS is not legally required to file annual returns to the Tax department or disclose its financial details publicly though it deals with thousands of crores of rupees every year especially after Modi became the Prime Minister of the country. The membership of the organisat...

No Problems Only Opportunities

You’ve probably heard this joke. A young man walked into his office one morning and found a beautiful young lady sitting in his chair. He called the MD and said, “Sir, I have a problem.” The MD replied, “Don’t you know our company’s motto, young man? No Problems, Only Opportunities .” When Suchita of The Blogchatter sent me a mail with the topic of this week’s blog hop –  - the first thing that came to my mind was the above joke. I know many people – too many, in fact – who went through terrible problems. My own life was a series of problems in none of which was there the consolation of any beautiful woman. One essential lesson I learnt from life is that life is a series of problems. You solve one and then arises the next one. Now I have reached an age when problems are no more problems: they are life itself. If you ask me what was the biggest problem I ever dealt with, it was my last years in Shillong. I was a lecturer in a college drawing a fat salary stipulated by the U...