The Cats & the Dogs

Reason to Celebrate

Just at that moment, the shouts of my Cat sisters chimed loudly.

“We have one! We have captured a Dog!”

Like in the drills at training school, I could see four of the Fighting Cats holding the tied up bundle of a Dog between them. This meant withdrawal and escape. After all, this was what we had come here for: to capture a Dog, alive. We had to leave now, escaping with our precious treasure.

I turned my back on the Dog, his eyes still burnt into my memory.

This was, without a doubt, not the time to become blinded by success. In many classes, teachers had again and again warned us that, on the way back to the Cat Village, we had to be extra careful. Some Dogs could be lurking in the shadows, waiting for us to pass by, trying to get back the captured Dog.

But not this time. We escaped without an attack, and passed the big River Blue before the Dogs we had been fighting
managed to recover and catch up with us. Tiger Yellow had said they might have better weapons than us, but I also knew Dogs are generally much slower.

The euphoria of our successful capture started to bubble up inside of me. The darkening sky made the Cat Village look even
more welcoming and homey, with its lit fireplaces and smells of smoked fish and meat.

It was already evening, but none of the Cats left behind had gone to sleep yet. When they heard our victory songs being shouted from the tops of our lungs, they chimed in, jumping and crawling out of the tree houses, their Cat tails swinging and swaying in the rhythm of the songs.

Cats, all ages, all ranks, ran towards us to see us with their own eyes: the successful new Fighting Team. We had proven
ourselves worthy of real fighting. Even my mentor was there . I tried to contain my smile as she gave me an approving nod.

I had done it. I had been on my first chase. And it had been a successful one. This would look so good on my records.

The Healing Cats came to look after our wounds. The experienced Herbal Mastercats started preparing their sacred ceremonies. Our booty disappeared for a moment. The bundle of Dog was now being prepared – the body cleaned and his soul freed from evilness and dirty Dogness. Potions were beingprepared. The smell of herbs, smoke and sweet flowers was already spreading across the whole main gathering place.

I could feel cooling creams being spread on my skin, while a hot fire was being lit right in the middle of the chaos. More and more Cats streamed onto the forest floor, raining from the trees all around us.

I had been to many celebrations before. Yet it had never felt this way. It had never been us that they were celebrating. I had
never been part of the hunting troop before. I was being hugged by one sister after another. I was congratulated by everyone. I
did not even do anything, I wanted to say. I did not even capture the Dog myself, but it did not matter – because the honour was to simply be part of it. Part of the Fighting Cats. They were my sisters. And now we were back – and we had been successful, and everyone was excited to see us.

The night continued in a blur of colours and motions. I did not see faces anymore. I did not know who these countless Cats
were that were smiling and hugging me, giving me something hot to drink, sweet and bitter tastes filling my throat. Everything was bathed in red and yellow because of the sizzling big fire, pushing away the obscure blue and black shadows of the night sky. There were also splashes of muddy brown and earthy colours, from the dirty feet dancing all around me on the wet ground. And all of these intense colours were softened and embraced by a grey and purple smoke hanging in the air, getting thicker by the hour.

Mother Lion was already positioned at her usual place, high above the other Cats’ heads. She was elevated, sitting on a
broad branch of the old oak tree in the middle of the chaotic main area. The fire was illuminating her face. I knew her speeches very well. I had attended many such celebrations before, reveling with the troops who were gone for hours, days sometimes! How exciting it had been to welcome them back.

Mother Lion started by thanking our Mother Earth for the fortunes she had given us. She was thanking the wind for having hidden our smell during the chase, and the earthy floor for having swallowed the sounds of our feet. She thanked the stars and the moon for allowing us to capture a Dog tonight.

At that moment, two strong ladies, who we called the Pumas, carried the cage of the Dog into the light of the flames. With the help of strings and ropes, the cage was hoisted into the air so that it was at the same height as Mother Lion.Everyone cheered, meowed, sang, laughed and sneered at the Dog.

It was the first time I really took a look at our captured Dog. His warrior clothes had been removed, his skin had been washed and cleaned, his mask exchanged with a flowery pink and green one that only covered his eyes and wolf-like ears. In the new garments, he looked smaller, younger – like a boy.

How old must he be? I wondered. Such a question had never crossed my mind before. For some reason, it had never even crossed my mind that a Dog had an age – just like us. They had birthdays. They were born. Dogs were born – by Cats.

A horrible thought, I noted. It was one of the worst things they had taught us at school: the fact that we, Cats, give birth to
these creatures – to our own enemies.

A rapid flashback to my time at school broke my vision.

“Do you know what this blood means?” she had asked me, a smirk on her face. I had never liked her. A fellow sister in my
Fighting Cats trainee group. Ragna was her birth name, but nobody called us by the birth names anymore. We were too old for that. After all, we were already Fighting Cat trainees.

Ragna was strong, red-haired and tall. A good Fighter, just like me, and we were often put together in training combat.

The blood she referred to was not from my wounds, but from my insides. My menstruation. I had just started my very first fertile cycle – and it had to happen in her company, of all Cats on Earth!

I was blushing, not knowing what to do.

She laughed, mockingly. “From now on, your body is not only your tool for unstoppable destruction and combat, but it is also capable of weakness, tenderness, and the temptation to create.” She spat on the floor, as if that disgusted her.

“It means I can get pregnant,” I said in a low voice, putting things in order from our anatomy classes.

“Only if you get raped by those Dogs!” she hissed, and without warning, she jumped forward, so close that her face was right in front of mine and I could distinguish the sweet-rose mixed with raw-meat smell coming out of her slightly opened mouth. She whispered sharply, right into my ear: “If they rape you during the mission, you will carry a baby of the devil. And you will be cast away. Where you will die, together with the devil-child!” She clenched my stomach with her claws and my whole body shook. I had already been in pain that day.Now her rough touch made me want to scream.

But I stood unmoving, not inching backwards, not pushing her away. I was frozen. In that moment, I had learned to shun and fear the world inside of me. And while in many songs and prayers, the uterus was treated as sacred and our wombs as comparable to sacred Earth itself, I could not help but feel disgusted just by the thought of what my body was capable of doing: of producing. My body – our bodies – were the temples that not only created our own life, but also that of those whom we detested so much. Our bodies, our capability of carrying babies, was the reason why they were treating us the way they had always treated us. It was the reason for our endless war,our endless separation.

~~~~~

Mother Lion was thanking the Tiger trainers for training the Fighting Cats. Finally, she thanked us, the Fighting Cats, and I
felt another wave of touches on my shoulders as faces turned to smile at me and the other Fighting sisters. This time, I could not smile back. This time, my body shook at each sudden touch on my skin. A strange sensitivity aroused in me, and I felt ashamed and dirty at the same time. I felt the urge to leave, and to wash myself.

Our Fighting group was now given the name the Golden Claws, and we were honoured with permission to participate in exploration training from now on. What a great honour! Cats meowed. Tiger Yellow was looking in my direction. She was proud. All the while, the Dog above us was twisting his body from side to side. What an honour for me. The Dog was scratching open a wound that had not healed properly. I should be so happy for our successful hunt. The Dog had lifted his head and now blindly turned his head around. I wanted to look away from him – but I just could not. As if frozen, I stared at him, and he seemed to be staring back at me ... right at me. Impossible.

He had his eyes closed with the decorative mask. Flowers were in front of his eyes. Herbs irritated his senses. He could neither smell nor see nor speak. And yet, it seemed like he was staring right at me. And a cold shiver went down my spine.

The climax of the celebration followed. The Dog was given to one of the highest ranked Cats of our tribe. Mother Lion called the fortunate Cat’s name and rank: “Puma of the Second Night Order, Shadeblue.”

Everyone applauded. A slim but strong woman jumped upon the tree branch that was one foot below Mother Lion’s. I recognized her. She used to come to school for some very special training for us. This Cat had always been a very strict teacher, known to bite off students’ nails if they did not listen to her – or even tear out their hair. She had also scratched other students' arms and ears bloody from time to time. Puma of Shadeblue had been fierce. Now she was to be the Cat to take care of our captured Dog. Another cold shiver ran down my spine.