Noelnadesan's Blog

Noel Nadesan

She did not rule a country, nor did any country declare her birthday a holiday. She was merely a cat named ‘queen’ (‘Rani,’ in Tamil). To others, she was only a cat.

It was around midnight on a cold night. I was preparing to close for the night at the veterinary hospital where I was employed and make my way home when a cat was brought into my clinic. Queen was a fully pregnant cat who was kept in a small enclosure and brought in an ambulance.

Worse still, Queen was a stray cat looking for a safe place to deliver her kittens. She was found hiding near a house. She did not carry a microchip that would provide a clue to her identity. What would have happened to the tomcat that made her pregnant? In all probability, the tomcat would have run away after satisfying its sexual desire, and the victim was my ‘queen.’

The plight of my queen reminded me of a poem by poet Jayakanthan titled ‘Vesiyin Thalatu’ (A whore’s lullaby), meaning ‘like God, you also don’t have a father’. Now, let us forget about the tomcat that made my queen pregnant.

Rarely does anyone come forward to adopt a stray old cat. Even the ambulance that brought the cat to my clinic left it there and departed. The usual practice at veterinary clinics is to send stray cats to the other world by euthanasia. Marika, a nurse attached to the clinic, after deep thought, said, “Let us examine the cat first and then decide on the course of action to be taken.” She was, by nature, a kind-hearted woman and, also, a lover of animals.

She used to look after many stray cats and dogs at her home, and whenever visitors came, she would willingly give them to them. She could be honoured with trophies for the compassion she showed to animals. When the cat was examined, the kitten’s head was protruding from the vulva, but the neck was bent. The cat was in agony from the pain of delivery, and the only option was to perform a caesarean operation to remove the kittens.

Although it was around midnight and I was due to leave the clinic, humane consideration made us wait and serve Queen. Hands that should have taken the car’s keys from my pocket instead took the devices needed for an operation.

We forfeited our overtime payments, performed the operation, and removed three kittens, of which one was found dead. Marika and I agreed that the cat would be kept in the clinic under our care for one week, then given to someone, while Marika would take the kittens home and look after them. As agreed, the cat was left at the clinic, and Marika took the kittens home.

As for me, my wife, who is a doctor, dislikes cats and maintains that cat hair causes asthma. She rejected my idea of taking the cat home. My wife would not accept Rani, so I looked after the cat at the clinic for one week. There weren’t any animal lovers keen to take the cat home, so I was awaiting an opportunity to take the cat home myself.
It was an agonising wait, but I was soon rewarded when my wife left for Sydney with our children to see her parents. My better half left home, and my queen came home! My wife returned, and on seeing the cat, she wore a long face, akin to how George Bush would react to seeing a photo of Osama Bin Laden!

We already had a dog named Sandy at home, who led a carefree life until the arrival of Queen, which felt like the Taliban entering our home. Queen and Sandy declared war against one another spontaneously, but after a while, it seemed they had entered into a memorandum of understanding, and hostilities between them ceased for no apparent reason. The dog and the cat started occupying a bed on the rear side of the house and the front side, respectively. Those who engage in skirmishes learn a valuable lesson from these two animals.

When a stone falls into a well, it causes ripples for a short while, and then the ripples cease, leaving the water placid. Likewise, my wife’s opposition to having a cat also ceased. When the cat was hungry, it would rub against my legs, and as if to express its happiness, it would play on my lap. To my wife, who disliked cats, I narrated lovely stories told by my grandmother and other tales dating back to ancient Egypt.

Harming cats was the same as harming Brahmins (Hindu priests), my grandmother drummed into me. The ancient Egyptians worshipped cats as their God. Cats are gentle in their behaviour, but they are violent when hunting prey, and my cat was no exception. Whenever the cat saw a small bird, it would craftily approach it, grab it, and eat it. Although there was a bell around its neck, it was adept at getting close to the bird without making a noise and catching it.

One day, as I was returning home after work, I saw a bird locked in a life-or-death struggle with a cat. As I did not carry a weapon, I hit the cat with my newspaper and saved the bird from imminent death.

It seemed the cat had developed a sense of anger towards me after I thwarted her attempt to catch the bird. Unlike earlier times, she no longer often came close to me, and the gap between us widened. We left home for the summer holidays and returned for the New Year. I sat in front of the TV to watch the New Year celebrations on Sydney Harbour Bridge, and the cat jumped onto my lap. As I was very interested in the program, I pushed the cat out of the room and shut the door. After the TV show was over, I should have allowed the cat to come back into the room, but I hadn’t, as I had fallen into a deep slumber and forgotten the cat.
On January 1, I looked for Rani, but she was missing. I searched the streets and neighbouring houses, but could not find her. I wondered whether she had jumped onto my lap during the previous night to bid me farewell. I also posted notices offering a generous reward to anyone who found Rani. But I could not find her, and it looked as if she was lost forever. It was strange how she had come to our clinic during a midnight delivery. All that remains are her beautiful memories.