The cat that fate gave me is a hero

I had my first cat when I was eight years old.

One day when I was eight years old, I was taken to play at her house by a distant aunt. My aunt's house is in the countryside, the thatched hut with low hedges, the fields and streams are all new things I have never seen before, but what attracts me the most is her litter of two-month-old kittens. The kittens are like balls of wool of different colors, lively and cute. I have always loved cats, and I can't wait to bring them when I go to the fields to catch dragonflies. Cats are small domestic animals with little economic value in the countryside. When my aunt saw that I liked them, she promised to give me one.

In the evening, my uncle who was running the freight came to pick me up, and my aunt really asked me to grab a kitten and take it with me. In addition to being excited, I didn't even think to ask my parents for their opinions, so I took the initiative and accepted it.

It seemed that they felt that they were going to be taken away, and the kittens that I had had a good time with ran all around. The white raccoon I was looking at was not caught by a few people. Finally, a black and white one was blocked under the chair. My uncle was still in a hurry, so the adults put it to me and said, "It's the same."

Compared with the naughty and naughty raccoon white, this dark cloud covered snow is more honest and docile. In the bumpy car, it lay quietly in my arms, not making a sound, but not panicking. I was holding my not-so-favorite kitten and was quickly rejoicing, after all, this was my first cat.

When I got home late at night, my parents were a little caught off guard when I brought back a cat in a hurry. My mother, who was worried about affecting my studies, threatened to send me and the kitten back to the country. The atmosphere was a bit unexpected. The calm kitten on the road also put her ears to the back of her head sensitively, and I stubbornly took care of me. Watching it, while waiting for the hair to fall. However, there was a glimmer of light in the eyes of the serious father. After he and mother scolded me for a few words, he said calmly: "Since you have brought it back, let's keep it."

The kitten adapts very quickly to the new environment. In just two days, he gets to know all the family members and understands all the instructions. I do my best to treasure it, and at night it always gets into the bed and sleeps together. The mother firmly refused to allow it. She said that the kitten had fleas and germs on it, and she forcibly smashed it out every time she saw it. If the kitten burrowed into her quilt at night, she would grab its nape and throw it to the ground in the haze. My father was unusually tolerant, and he didn't approve of me sleeping with the kitten in my arms, but I secretly hid the kitten under the covers, and he always pretended not to see it. Occasionally the kitten stepped on his quilt, and he would pet it a few times. I can clearly feel that he also likes kittens in his heart.

In fact, this is not only my first cat, but also my parents' first cat. We don't have much experience, except for the petting that we take for granted, we are more about raising with the flow. I gave it our food, rice mixed with some potatoes and eggplants, and occasionally fish and meat, and I hurriedly gave it some. This is naturally much better than in the country, where the kittens gobble all their food. I'm proud to think that I've given it the best life possible.

From autumn to winter, spring blossoms, the kitten gradually grows into a big cat, the fur is brighter and the muscles are firmer and stronger, until then, we realize that this is not due to the "equality". '' meals, but instead, it learned to catch mice.

The warm wind, the sound of crickets, and the slightly drunk night, the kitten no longer misses our comfortable bed, and starts to catch the restless mice from the front and back of the house like a policeman. With such a natural ability, it does not need mother cat to teach it, and it does a great job.

We haven't been able to come up with a good name for a kitten. When he grows up, he just calls it Kitty or Mimi. At the beginning of catching mice, the cat had a habit that made people laugh and cry. It caught mice and almost never ate them directly outside. Only then can we enjoy the food contentedly. In my sleep, I heard the thumping under the cabinet. It was the cat playing with the mouse seven times, and then "squeaky", it bit the mouse's neck and knocked it to death, and then there was a slight Chew. When I woke up early in the morning, there were often bloodstains under the cabinet, and there were still the remains of a rat's tail. My mother covered her nose and vomited, and ordered my father to clean it up quickly. My father picked up a broom and pretended to scolded the cat while cleaning up, "You can really find something for people to do. ah."

After growing into a big cat, the cat is more taciturn. In the words of the old people, it is a model of a good cat. In the face of these admirations, it will neither whine sweetly nor rub people's legs coquettishly. I suspect that the mother's refusal has left a shadow on it. It hopes to repay the owner with diligent catching mice and win Approved.

Therefore, outside the night, it simply sacrificed its sleep time during the day and brought back one mouse after another without stopping. It is full at night, and it basically does not eat the mice it catches during the day, and shares it with us selflessly. Once my father took a nap, but within half an hour, it brought back four mice, which were placed neatly on the ground. That day, my father finally couldn't help but praise it. The compliment gradually changed from "good" to a cheering "You are amazing!" Even the mother exclaimed. If it wasn't for his father rushing to work in the afternoon, he would have brought back more mice after carrying the rat's nest.

Another time, it dragged back a large mouse that was almost as long as it was. It was the largest mouse we have ever seen so far. The father, who has always been prudent, actually proudly used a shovel to show it to the neighbors. It was the heroic deed of the cat and a pride of our family. Unconsciously, his father's love for it was exposed, one cat is one person, one is really introverted, and the other is pseudo-low-key.

Speaking of which, our intimacy has dropped a lot since cats caught mice. Although I like cats, I also like to run wild with my friends. The only time I spend with it in a day is in the evening. It squatted on the edge of the kang to watch me do my homework, and played with my constantly moving hand and pen, which added a lot of fun to my boring study time. But once it worked too hard and scratched a hole in the homework. Pursuing perfection, I was so angry that I cried and rewrote the homework. After that, it hid even a little bit of naughty, just lay quietly on the side, and dozed off when it got tired. And by the time I wash up and go to bed and want to have a good time with it, it is already in high spirits to go out on a great hunt. A near-free-range child and a semi-free-range cat, friendship is not so easy to maintain.

Thanks to the cats' hard work day and night, the mice near my house gradually disappeared, and even the neighbors benefited. To this end, the cat had to travel a long way to hunt, and only came back exhausted with the mouse in the early morning. Everyone praises my family for having a good mouse catcher, but they all ignore how easy it is for cats to get mice. One late summer night, I was woken up by my mother in a deep sleep. The first thing I felt when I opened my eyes was a strong stench pouring into my nose. The house was brightly lit, and our quilts, pillows, and all around the kang were covered with sparse feces. The cat squatted in the middle of the ground, covered with feces.

The situation is easy to imagine. The cat was catching mice at a stranger's house. At that time, every house had dry toilets. During the chase, he was not familiar with the terrain. It struggled to get out, ran back to us for help, we slept too deeply, it called one by one and no one answered it, so there was feces all around us, and it fell into the cesspool as well. The mother, who was awakened by the smoke, was busy with dismantling and washing for half the night, and the father temporarily locked the cat in the abandoned chicken coop. As soon as the two discussed it, the cat could not be kept.

I was very reluctant to throw away the cat, but when I was young, I didn't know what to do with a cat covered in filth, so I agreed with tears.

Early the next morning, my father wrapped the cat in a newspaper and rode a bicycle to a distant place that I did not know. I was depressed all day, lost in the conflict between losing and keeping my cat. I tried to convince myself that even if I left it, it was so dirty, I would never touch it again, and finally, I exhaled heavily, as if a burden had been lifted.

After school in the afternoon, I took my friends to open the door, and the cat was gone. Sadly, I still chose to play with my friends as usual. Unexpectedly, we turned into the yard through the porch, and saw the cat lying on the concrete wall, and immediately sat up when I saw it. I rubbed my eyes, yes, it's my cat, not dirty at all, as clean as ever.

I listened to my father like a legend about how he abandoned his cat. He rode for more than ten miles to reach a sparsely populated wasteland in the suburbs, and put it in a place with relatively lush vegetation, birds and insects. The silent cat along the way suddenly whined in a low voice, mournful and mournful , like weeping and complaining, the father hardened his heart to comfort it, and said some goodbye words, generally because the fate has been exhausted, just say goodbye to it, seek fortune and the like. The cat stopped meowing and just stood there. My father had walked a long way, and couldn't help but turn his head. He saw a small black spot on the vast land still staring at him alone. The middle-aged man's tears almost burst through the gate. He walked back to the cat without hesitation and said, "We go home!

After returning home, my father used "countless" basins of water to wash the cat. The cat, who was extremely afraid of water, stood motionless on the fence, at the mercy of his father. The man is rough in the end, he cleans it meticulously, but uses laundry cream and cold water. Compared with the feces and being abandoned, the cat chose to endure it silently, without humming from beginning to end. Father said, this cat is too sensible, it understands everything!

I'm glad I got my cat back, but our relationship is more estranged than ever. Even though it endured the humiliation and was washed by my father, with a faint scent of laundry balm on its body, and its glossy and supple fur, my mother and I still felt that it was buried. I rarely touch it, hold it, and refuse it to get close to my bed. Like my father said, it seems to understand our thoughts, and it seldom comes to me for fun. The indifference of the little master made him devote all his energy to the cause of catching mice. In the limited time at home, he became a silent shadow.

For a long time, no matter how far the cat travels at night, whether it is harvested or not, it will definitely come home in the morning at the latest, eat the meal prepared for it on the CD, and curl up on the kang head to make up for a sleep. After the toilet incident, it came back later and later, and it brought back not many mice. I don’t know what happened to it outside, and whether the surrounding animals and the rat race took it as a laughing stock, “Look, that’s the fallout. To the cat in the cesspool!" Or "Yo, the cat that we shunted into the ditch is here again!" At that time, no one cared about a cat's mood, and no one cared about its abnormally late return.

After more than 20 days in such a turbulent way, the cat suddenly disappeared without warning. I haven't seen it for two whole days, and I can't help but worry. That kind of worry was not there when I wanted to throw it away. It turned out that I would miss it when it was gone, and I would think about whether it is safe or not. Fortunately, on the evening of the third day, it appeared in my gaze, staggering and looking tired. This time, I forgot that it was "dirty", I held it in my arms, and for three days, it was thin enough to touch the ribs easily.

My friendship with the cat has improved a lot. I take some time to play with it every day. The first thing I do when I wake up and after school is to see if it is at home. If I am not there, I will be nervous. However, the previous indifference has had an irreversible effect. The cat is not used to my sudden change. The so-called playing with it is just wishful thinking when it rests. It does not cater to or resist. The father sighed that the cat's advantages are also its shortcomings. It is too introverted and serious, so that it loses the liveliness of a one-year-old kitten and looks old-fashioned. I studied the cat carefully, and it is really worried and not very happy, but its eyes are very gentle, I believe it still loves me.

The autumn wind in the north is gradually getting colder and the weather is getting colder every day. We unanimously decided that in a few days, the cats will not be allowed to go out at night. First, I can no longer sleep with the window open, and secondly, the frost and dew are dignified, for fear that it will freeze outside. The cat also showed nostalgia for the hot kang. That night, it had a ideological struggle over whether to stay at home or go out. He wandered at the door for a while, and jumped on the kang head for a while. In the end, the desire to hunt defeated the inertia. Hastily disappeared into the night before we went to bed.

Afterwards, I regretted countless times that after the cat came back from the first disappearance, it should not have been allowed to go out at night. But who knows, maybe it is destined, no matter when it goes out, it may not escape.

The next day, the cat didn't come back, I couldn't help panicking, the adults comforted me, maybe it ran too far, like last time, it will come back in two days. But I have a vague ominous premonition. Every day after school, I stubbornly look for it nearby and call it, but there is no trace of it anywhere. Despair spread in my heart at a double speed. On the eighth day of living like a year, I lay on the ground with withered leaves and cried. I knew that I really lost it!

After the cat was lost, I became seriously ill, and my mind always looked like it was lying dead in the wilderness. It was the first loss in my life, and the pain in my heart will never be forgotten. Many years later, when I mentioned it to my friends, someone said in a different way that maybe it was in estrus and flew away with my lover. I categorically deny that there are indeed a small number of cats who will court in autumn, but in any case, it will definitely go home, even with its lover. The family has seriously discussed it, and there is only one possible truth, that is, the cat accidentally ate a rat poisoned by rat poison. In autumn, in order to prevent the stored new food from being harmed, many people in the city are used to spraying rat poison, and a large number of rats were killed by the poison, which also caused certain difficulties for cats to catch rats. That night, after traveling for a long distance and consuming a lot of physical strength, it didn't catch a live rat, nor did it have the strength to bring back the poisonous rat it encountered, so it could only eat it on the spot, right? In those years, the indirect poisoning of cats happened from time to time, and people have long been surprised.

For a while, I assumed countless times, what would have happened if I had adopted my favorite raccoon white? But there is never an if in the world. Destiny made me have a cat, and made it a shining, supreme hero in my heart. I have never seen a cat as diligent, heroic, and invincible as it has ever been! It not only used action, but also used life to write a cat's duty and mission. Even that slip, no one thought it was stupid anymore, on the contrary, it added a glorious stroke to its fighting history.

To make up for the pain of losing my cat, a few months later, my father offered me a kitten. He no longer hides the fact that he also loves cats, and his mother gradually accepted that we have cats. Later, many cats were raised in the family, and most of the successors were black and white. This is the dark cloud and snow complex left by the cat, and it is also a tribute and memory to it.

Time flies, and in a flash, the cat has been gone for thirty years. Five years ago, my father also went west due to illness. In heaven, they must have reconnected. In the mortal world, I am still fighting for my life, I am tired but full of motivation, because I believe that above the colorful clouds, the cat wears golden armor and armor, and my father and I have been silently guarding me and my mother, protecting me to overcome difficulties and move forward bravely.