Lapushka, Kitty, Where Are You?
The young cat had hidden under the boards lying near the fence. She knew that the woman calling her wouldn’t climb under there, but she still tried to stay far from the voice and the woman herself.
The cat was right. After crying out something tearful a couple more times, the woman went back into the house. The door slammed loudly. Then it was quiet for a few minutes, but the hated voice rang out again. This time from the window. This time there was no cloying sadness in it—only rage, anger…
The cat didn’t care who this outburst was directed at. People would sort it out. People could answer back… but what could she do? She didn’t even have a protector now.
The cat didn’t know where the man was—the one who had picked her up from the street, brought her into warmth, fed her, and healed her. But from the first days of the cat living in the house, it was like this: as soon as he disappeared behind the door, she would start getting sideways looks. But when he came back, those looks would turn oily and sickly sweet.
“Kitty! Beauty! Lapushka! Uh-tyu-tyu-tyu…”
The person took it all at face value, but the cat, barely out of kittenhood, saw behind that sickly affection a coldness that turned into hatred. She didn’t understand it, but accepted it as fact. Man behind the door — cat under the couch.
In the evenings, when he came home from work, the cat would come out. She’d rub against him, he’d pet her, pour her food, bring treats.
“Leonid!” the woman’s voice would screech sometimes, “She ate, you spend more time with the cat than with me!”
The man would say something, still stroking the cat’s back. He called her Lapushka. His voice stayed calm, but in that one name there was more affection and love than in all the woman’s wailing.
That’s how they lived. How much time passed, the cat didn’t know. Outside the window everything turned white and stayed that way for a long time, then the sun shone more often. The white disappeared, replaced by the earth covered with garbage thrown in the wrong place, which the winter snow had hidden. Then the trash was somehow cleaned up, and grass appeared. The cat saw it all from the window.
And then the man disappeared. One morning he stroked the cat, fed her, and left. But in the evening, he didn’t come back like he always did.
Lapushka stayed under the couch until dark. The man didn’t come. She came out and sneaked into the kitchen. The bowl was empty. The cat circled the kitchen, drank some water, and quickly slipped back under the couch.
In the morning she came out again.
“Oh! You showed up…” the cat heard a hiss from above. “Here! Eat!”
Food poured into the bowl from a human’s height. The cat pressed herself to the floor. Run away? But she was hungry. She began eating, glancing at the unhappy woman.
“Eat! No sulking. And faster! You’ll be late for school!” the hissing came again, but now it wasn’t directed at her.
At the table sat a boy. He kicked his feet and poked at his food. Then he stealthily threw something from his plate at Lapushka.
The woman noticed and started yelling.
The cat, not finishing her food, ran to her hiding place, leaving the people to sort it out. She returned to the kitchen after the boy left for school, and the woman also went away. The food stayed lying on the floor. The cat picked out the pieces that hadn’t been stepped on. Basically, she had eaten enough.
Lapushka jumped up on the windowsill. She looked for the man, but he didn’t come. She slept there and barely had time to hide when the woman returned.
Another day passed. And then another. Everyone scolded Lapushka more and more. The boy began throwing things at her, which he hadn’t done when the father was home.
On the fifth day, he hit Lapushka with a textbook. At that moment, the woman was coming back from the neighbor’s or somewhere else. The cat saw the opening door and dashed through it, leaving the people in the apartment.
The woman yelled as usual. The cat didn’t know at whom, she ran down the stairs, then jumped into the yard and, running around, found shelter in an old construction waste dump that hadn’t been cleaned for a long time.
Not right away, but the woman also came into the yard.
“Lapushka, kitty, where are you?” she called, but the cat didn’t even think about coming out.
She stayed under the boards until night. She didn’t hear the woman yelling at her son that “the father will come back, and that trash won’t be here, did you even think about that, he’ll ask me, you don’t care about your mother…” She yelled a lot of things, but the cat no longer cared.
At night she peeked out. Found a puddle and drank. If only to eat too… She had already gotten used to eating once a day by this time. There was still time until morning. The cat went back under the boards and fell asleep.
But in the morning, she didn’t find food either. That was bad.
Lapushka looked at the apartment windows. Maybe her friend had come back? But no one was there. She followed a smell. It smelled like food, but unpleasant. Lapushka found some trash containers. She hesitated but jumped onto one of them.
“Shhhh!”
From there, a huge scruffy tomcat looked at her.
Lapushka jumped back, but the tomcat suddenly changed his mind about yelling. He moved aside and let the cat grab a piece of bread. She bit into the piece and dragged it under the boards. Her teeth were strong. Breaking it off bit by bit, Lapushka ate the bread, then slipped out, took her chance, and drank from the puddle.
“Mrrruuurr…”
The tomcat was nearby.
The cat and tomcat sniffed each other. Lapushka was overcome by some feeling she didn’t understand, the tomcat grabbed her by the scruff, but at that moment, the woman and the boy from the apartment where Lapushka had lived appeared again.
“There she is! Catch her!”
The tomcat ran off, Lapushka slipped back under the boards.
The woman and the boy ran along the boards, called, tried to pull the cat out, poked all the holes with a stick, then gave up and left.
At night Lapushka moved to the neighboring yard. Then she thought and went even further. She learned to find food. Learned to read people. In the fifth or sixth yard she met a girl who fed cats every morning and evening.
Lapushka took a liking to her. This person earned her trust, and she started coming when called.
“We’ve got a new one,” the girl said once, pouring food.
She said it to her friend who sometimes helped her.
They stood and watched the cats eat hastily.
“She was a house cat,” the second girl said, watching Lapushka, “and not long ago.”
“Yeah, someone kicked out a teenager again. She wasn’t here in the winter. Probably got tired of her.”
“Masha, I’ll take her. Poor thing. She’s probably already been loved by tomcats. A month or so, and there will be kitten-suicides again.”
“Do you think she’ll go to hands without a trap?”
“Well, I’ll try, Len.”
Masha waited until the cat finished eating. Most of the cats feeding by then were sitting and grooming nearby.
“Kiss-kiss-kiss…”
Lapushka looked around suspiciously.
A girl was approaching her.
“Kitty, good girl, lapushka…”
“How does she know my name?” the cat wondered.
She froze, listening to the voice. It was calm. Without cloying sweetness or coldness. The voice was female but the tone was like the one the man used to call her. The voice was kind. Gentle. Lapushka hadn’t heard anyone call her like that in over a month!
The girl stood and spoke, no longer trying to get closer. Then she sat down.
“Come here, my girl! Lapushka!”
The cat listened. Then she looked carefully: there was no cold or anger in the girl’s eyes either.
“Baby! I won’t hurt you, come to me!”
If Lapushka hadn’t been a house cat for several months, she wouldn’t have come so quickly when called. But the cat suddenly realized how much she missed human affection!
She listened a little more to the voice and came to meet her. The girl Masha cautiously extended her hand, let the cat sniff it. Then she stroked the cat, and when Lapushka purred, picked her up in her arms.
“Let’s go home, lapushka.”
The cat raised her head and looked into the girl’s eyes.
“What? You like it? Then I’ll call you Lapushka!”
Twice Lapushka quickly settled into her new home. She endured all the clinic procedures, wore a little jacket, and began living peacefully.
In her new home there was also a woman, a man, and even two boys. But none of them hissed at her, scolded her, or threw things. Then Masha and Lapushka got their own apartment. And when the woman, man, and boys came to visit, they brought gifts.
Sometimes she remembered that first man and felt sorry for him. It’s bad to live where there is so much yelling and coldness.
But she, Lapushka, now lives in warmth. And the warmth isn’t just from the sun and the radiators!
