The Dream Kitten.
A man came from the forest; he held my hand and told me I was blessed. He would now give me a gift. A tiny kitten fit in the palm of my hand. Entirely black - except for a bright, deep orange stripe that crosses his pack. He is special- the man says- you must take care of him. His real worth is not his fur, but his heart. Name him MANGO.
That day I woke up startled by that strange dream. A cat? I've never liked cats my entire life? What does it mean?
I told my husband about the dream but he wasn't amazed. After all, I always have odd dreams, no apparent meaning. This time, though, I felt different.
Anyhow, life moved on with our daily routines. I forgot at all about the dream. Then, one Sunday morning, after coming from our religious meeting, we found something waiting at our front porch. Rather, it was a someone. A tiny cute white-brown-black spotted kitty laid there.
It cried. I held her close and felt her warmth. My husband looked at me, wondering if I really wanted to own a cat.
I hurried to the kitchen and fed her tuna and water, but she was not a happy girl! She hissed at us and ran like a thunder whenever we stared at her. If we wanted to pick her up she would scratch and bite us. And because she was so tiny she wouldn't relieve herself. Finally, in the evening, I was able to hold her close to my chest (wearing kitchen mittens, no more scratching, girl).
She (I knew Mango was a good name, but a boy's name after all, I didn't want that name for her) cried all night long. But we were awaken by louder cries outside, so we got up and went to investigate. At midnight, we saw the kitten standing in the back door and a large gray cat smelling the door and crying. Surely it was momma, ready to pick up her girl.
I hesitated between my feelings: would it be right to leave her go with her mom? They had no house - I thought - It would be dangerous. Wouldn't it?
My husband asked me what I wanted to do. I wanted to keep her and protect her, but so did mom. And, she had her first, you know. So, I opened the door and watched them both go and leave my life forever.
My husband knew I missed the kitten and promised me whenever circumstances were right we would have a cat.
So I secretly prayed that circumstances WERE right soon, and I wished more and more in my heart to own Mango. Not ANY cat, but MANGO.
We went into town and got the basics: stainless steel cups, litter and a covered litter box. And waited. And waited. We asked people we knew owned cats if they happened to have an orange kitten. No one did. Someone did mention that downtown they gave away kittens for free at a veterinary. So we paid a visit. Still, we found no Dream Cat.
The nice lady shopkeeper smiled and asked if we wanted one or the two kittens they had in a cage. They were tiny and playful, but of a black and brownish color, not exactly a Mango.
I went ahead and told her my dream, not caring that everyone on the store heard it and would consider it nonsense. She laughed and said: "the little fellow is special. You will know when you find him." I went again to the kittens, held them, and said: "sorry, you guys. You're just not what I'm looking for. You're sure cute, just not special."
Then, a woman came and started talking animatedly with the lady. They both looked at me and the lady shopkeeper asked her: "isn't your mom giving away a kitten litter? One of them a yellow kitten?" She nodded and came to me. "She'll bring the kittens tomorrow, but she's planning not to give the little yellow one. He's just too special." "Tell your mom", I pleaded, "I will take care of Mango. He will be my baby."
"I will," the woman said, "but I can't promise you anything."
My heart broke.
The lady shopkeeper talked a little more with the woman, and she made a phone call. She hung up and said to me: "the kitten is yours. My mom wants someone to take good care of him, and was touched with your story. Seems you and the cat already share a special bond. and you still haven't met!"
We went into town the next day; I had my backpack with me to pick up the kitten. I got to the store and the lady shopkeeper yelled: "Mango is gone. We gave him away!" Before she finished I saw the tiny orange fur ball in the cage, lying there. Two girls were holding another two black kittens, but they wanted the orange one. "Everybody wants the cat. They come and see him. It's a charm; they instantly want to take him home." I simply responded: "But he is mine."
I grabbed the kitten that seemed a lot larger than the other two black cats. "What happened to the others from yesterday?" I asked. "Gone. An old lady took the girl and a little boy took the guy." "Why don't you girls take these two home?" I asked the pretenders, the girls that wanted Mango. They shrug. "My mom would hate it. Bad luck."
I took Mango home and loved him ever since. The kitten that I almost never met is now my baby. He is used to car trips and people, greeting our frequent guests with affection. He enjoys the small things in life, eating, sleeping and cuddling with loved ones, playing with toys and friends, vocalizing, staring out the window for hours, just laying on the floor.
He IS special. His real worth is not his fur, but his heart. And he loves me too!
I never liked cats before. Period. I was a dog person. But when I married Pablo he taught me to love felines.
Since our marriage I've been longing to have a dog, but our lifestyle would not allow us to own one: "it's not fair for the poor pup to be left alone all day".