The Day the Cat Bit Me
Hungry, strayed, lonely, and confused
I have been feeding this black-and-white stray cat for several weeks now. He hangs around my house and always seems to be so hungry, it makes me feel bad to see him like that so I feed him whenever I’m feeding my own cat.
I feel like we’ve created a bond, a sort of connection; I feed him, and he’s being polite — it was working.
But one day, as I was preparing food for him, the door was opened, and he walked inside the kitchen. He was not supposed to be in the house — my cat doesn’t like other cats around her — so I gently shushed him out. As I was shushing him, he became annoyed and bit my foot, so hard it left scars and bruises.
I became so angry. How could he do that to me? All I’ve done is give him some food when he needed it the most. How could he be so ungrateful? I almost considered not feeding him that day, to sort of teach him a lesson.
But then I looked at him — outside, alone, licking his paws.
I looked at him and I saw this hungry, strayed, lonely cat who probably didn’t even know how to deal with things that agitate him, other than to attack back and show strength. He probably never had anyone in his life who showed him gentleness, so the only way to protect himself is to cause harm and hurt others. Probably, he was sorry and confused, but didn’t know how to properly express it.
And most certainly, he was still hungry.
So I decided to feed him anyway.
I have been that cat. I have been strayed, lonely, confused — and then, forced to deal with something that went not according to my plan. At that point, even the slightest inconvenience would become a major ego bruise.
I go about my life with certain expectations on how things might turn out, and sometimes they don’t go that way. It’s unfair to react to each and every discomfort in a way that could damage the bigger picture — and even worse, others around me.
The way we react is just a reflection of how confused and/or worried we are for our own wellbeing caused by unforeseen circumstances, which might hurt our pride and make us see it as some sort of an “attack”.
The cat that I thought should be taught a lesson, was teaching me instead.
As I cleaned my wounded foot, the traces of anger washed away with the water. What was left was an understanding. A new device in my toolbox, to better comprehend and sympathize with how people choose to react towards things in life. Also, to show myself compassion and love, should I one day become strayed, lonely, confused.
And most certainly — hungry.
