When I had just arrived in N., one of the things I’m glad I’d noticed was an old, near ancient, tree. The perfect place to end it all if comes to it, I thought; but then the spring came instead. Our house’s garden was overgrown by then, blooming. The hem of the tree was specked in tiny red flowers.
Then the cats appeared. A wild Grey cat, with a clear difference in manners and genes from his domesticated relatives, occasionally stopped by. At one point, he let me know he was outside the door in a way I only thought possible with humans. I took a pity on him initially, as he could — and had — been fed by most of the neighbourhood, yet he visited our house the most. So we became friends.
A majestic white cat appeared out of the blue in the midst of grass and flowers in the back of our garden. I still have the reel of it, both in my head and on film. The heaven’s records. She was sweet, smart and polite. After a few days of testing the boundaries, she came over to cuddle in my bed, which became a daily occasion. I called her Queenie only to myself, as no equivalents are present in a closer language.
She was Grey’s fiancé, and he took his role seriously, guarding her, bringing food. I think he led her here on purpose, too, perhaps to a better kind of home. I thought about her previous dwelling occasionally, and it brought me painful wonders — what if she was happier there? What if she loved her previous Big Friend more? Her soft purrs discarded such thoughts, as she lied happily on my chest. But it’s one of the mysteries she was unable to answer me.
We lived in an old shack of bricks in the middle of a forest. As overgrown as the enveloping garden, the vines and leafs had free rein over the walls of our home. I had never seen such a variety of colour green. I had expanded my palate. Both the fauna and their surrounding flora were too peaceful to intrude, except for a couple of dogs, a local comedy duo living on treat pay.
It was a certain idyll.
We had to move soon after Queenie gave birth. Half of the twins survived. To the stillborn we gave a proper warrior burial. The other one had soon passed away too. She had continued her genealogy later.
She has passed away last spring.