It was an unusually beautiful morning; I could hear distant chirping of early birds who were up early for catching the worms. My window pictured the blooming roses which faced towards the rays of light spread across the vast sky which was slowly dawning into a new day.
Along with the nature’s diverse sounds I heard a muffled voice from the sitting room. First, I thought I was imagining it, but then I was sure it was quite a sound. I stood up shakily from my bed. My mother was fast asleep and so I walked to the sitting room in an attempt to welcome the early visitor.
Slowly I unbolted the door, now I was able to hear deep intake of breathe from behind the door. It somehow seemed less human. I was sure the early visitor was up to no good. I armed myself with the nearest flower vase and steadily open the door.
The next thing I saw made me stand rooted to the spot. It was a strange scene, I, who was armed with a flower vase standing before a six foot body, its face lined with tangled mane and wearing a very humanoid expression. Yes, it was the king of the jungle on my door step. “Hi” I said without even knowing I had spelled it. I almost expected it would say “hi”, but he gave a sudden uproar. He started yelling at the top of his voice, “Wake up! Wake up!” I stirred for a moment and woke up to find it was all a dream.
Though I am a constant dreamer of weird hallucinations, this dream seemed somewhat linked to my life and sure enough it was.
After a few days I woke up earlier than the others. The morning was very foggy and cold. I stepped out from the bed and walked straight to my living room to open the door and catch a glimpse of the icy morning. I opened the door and suddenly a gush of icy wind followed by a shrill cry came to view. I looked left and right in order to find the source of the sound. There was nothing except the fog visible. I looked down on to my mat where usually the paper boy drops the paper.
The sight that met my eyes made me jump. It was a small body with no mane but white whiskers. It gave a wide yawn which displayed the sharp canines in its mouth. It had stripes on its body unlike the lion that I saw in my dream. There in the mat lay the miniature form of the king of the jungle. It was a lithe, pale but a cute little ginger cat on my mat. This time I did not wake up to find it was a dream. It was REAL.
I thought it would suddenly break into a run on seeing me but instead it started meowing really human like. From its look I realized that it was very hungry and so I rushed to the kitchen got a vessel in which I poured milk and was about to give it to the cat, when he suddenly broke into a run and vanished behind some bushes. However I placed the vessel and closed the door. I was sure even if that cat did not drink the milk some other animal will. I did not dare open the door. I went back and proceeded with my activities.
I never expected the cat will return again but to my utter astonishment he came again the same he came the last day. After a few days of continuous feeding of milk and snacks, he looked more lovely and cuter than any other cats.
His early visits played a dramatic effect in my friendship with the animals and a certain love for them rose somewhere in my heart.
Ginger has become the part of our family.