At that moment, the Black Dog neared towards him, its back arched ready for combat. Its jowls drawled with grey saliva that bounced up and down as it panted. Directly above it, a set of drab clouds began racing over a darkening sky like nondescript items on a speeding conveyor belt. The eyes flashed wildly, bluer and more electrical as the distance between cat and dog closed. Its stench was indescribable. Finally Library Cat took a deep breath, opened his mouth, shut his eyes and let out a long sibilant hiss, as long and as loud and as threatening as he could possibly muster from his tiny cat-lungs.
And then silence. Everything except the grey clouds that scudded overhead became colourless and still. A kind of locked-in horror.
Library Cat opened his eyes. The Black Dog had fled.
Where did it go? Did I imagine it?
Ahead of Library Cat was a clear path towards the library. A car rumbled across the cobbles, and several satchelled Humans flitted in and out of buildings. A girl came over to stroke him.
“Library Cat, there’s no need to look so scared!”
The girl had blonde ringlets and weaved her fingers tenderly between his fur. She smelt sweet like oranges. Library Cat looked up at her eyes. They seemed empathetic. Despite his remoteness, Library Cat felt grateful for the company.
A little while later, he slipped away from the Human’s touch and into the library.
Sleep washed over him before his head even hit his turquoise chair.
Library Cat was still in his chair. It was difficult to say how long. The Black Dog had returned to him in a few sifting dreams but it hadn’t lunged at him, and for this Library Cat was a little relieved. His mood was a little better; he felt rested. The mysterious chamber in his brain had magically begun refilling with the magic elixir of wellbeing. He wasn’t fully restored, but he was on the mend. He still felt scared, and irritable, and jealous and angry, but that didn’t matter quite so much, if the wellbeing elixir was refilling. With no wellbeing elixir these emotions were unpalatable and overwhelming like squash concentrate. When diluted in the elixir, however, they turned into little threads of colour that swept through the clear water of his mind making marvellous patterns in their myriad colours. They made up his character.
I still don’t want to go outside again yet. I want to make sure the dog’s gone – away from George Square, away from Edinburgh. Oh… hello Humans…
All of a sudden, a large clutch of students had gathered around Library Cat. Realising he’d spent a long time in the library and had not returned home for quite some time, they began to get worried for him. So much so, in fact, that they had even alerted something called a “Tabloid Newspaper” – a dubious compilation of Human writings – that he had run away.
Well I’m here and I’m here to stay, thought Library Cat, craning his head forward like a plank, his eyes gummed shut, purring softly. He felt touched by the concern.
Even more touching, though, was the sudden swathe of concerned correspondences Library Cat received from his cousins. Biblio Chat, for one, had risen out of his lofty contemplative remove and shown an uncharacteristic amount of concern for his Scottish cousin; said he should try thinking through these issues with another cat… un chat thérapeutique et professionnel… who may be able to help. Maybe the spectre of the Black Dog originated in kittenhood? Saaf Landan Tom’s advice was of a rather different vein: “My cat flap’s always open mate. If you need to cotch at mine, yeah? Ya wiv me, bruv, yeah? It’ll pass, mate, we’ll get you out on da alley again in no time.”
Tom’s response was brave. Library Cat had, after all, lashed out at his cousin the month before, causing him to flee, even though Tom had never meant to harm by stealing his food, and even though he could have retaliated and made short work of his black and white cousin if he’d wished. And yet Tom, with a perturbed swish of his great bushy ginger tail, and a few licks of his bloody paw, had clearly put the matter behind him, and forgiven his cousin for swiping. That took a lot. That took being the bigger cat…
Saaf Landan Tom had then suggested – meaning well, of course – that his cousin procure some of the potent catnip offered by the alley cats of Tollcross in exchange for certain “literatures”. Though grateful, Library Cat was sceptical of the advice after a bad experience that once resulted in a bout of torturous rodent-based hallucinations. One could never trust the Tollcross Nip.
Library Cat thought it curious how, despite remaining sceptical about the advice offered by his cousins, he derived a definite warmth and reassurance from it nevertheless. And Saaf Landan Tom talked about feelings… Saaf Landan Tom never talked about feelings.
I should stop sending my cousins to Coventry, Library Cat suddenly thought, feeling a little ashamed. What’s more, if I send them to Coventry, they end up sending me to Coventry, and that defeats the point. Because we end up being in Coventry together. And surely the last place two cats would want to be, whether they get on or not, is Coventry.
At times like this, Library Cat wondered whether it might’ve been easier if he hadn’t been born a thinking cat – if he’d never had the warm, heady nirvana-pleasures of the Towsery, or the densely punctuated lines of Friedrich Nietzsche to send bright, happy thoughts across the pitchfork entrails of his synapses. He thought of all those cats who were not thinking cats. Right now they were all over Scotland: double-helixing their way between their Humans’ legs, neck craned up at a chicken titbit; offering purrs indiscriminately to whomever stopped to stroke them; chasing bits of string entirely at the whim of Human masters; trying to scream down their own reflection in long, thin IKEA mirrors…
Would it be easier to be like them? wondered Library Cat.
But no sooner had Library Cat begun to deconstruct the question and think of it from myriad angles than more Humans arrived with strokes and tickles. One even had some bacon rind. Another spoke softly and smelt nice.
Library Cat couldn’t tell how, but he was definitely feeling better. And it was down to the right company. He had never been so pleased for the affection of the student Humans.
Some three weeks earlier, in George Square, a lady and her son had been out walking their dog. The day had been beautifully clear, but now the clouds were racing and the lady worried that they may well be caught in one of those unforgiving Edinburgh downpours. As they let their dog off the lead to bound around the perimeters of the square, the young boy piped up to his mother.
“Mummy, that cat’s seen Toby!”
The lady furrowed her brow and called Toby back who cooperatively linked back with his lead.
As the pair headed away from the square alongside the library towards the Meadows, the boy looked back.
“Look Mummy! Ha ha! The cat’s running in circles! He’s chasing his tail.”
“The poor wee thing probably has fleas,” the lady replied curtly, giving the dog a tug on his lead and upping her pace towards home with another suspicious glance at the sky.
Recommended Reading
Reasons to Stay Alive by Matt Haig.
Food consumed
Bacon rind.
Mood
Empty, but improving.
Discovery about Humans
They can be kind and intuitive. They can be lifesavers.