Scat Cat is back! Chap. 5

For anyone who's been following the perils of my lost Cat...here's the next chapter.

Chapter Five: Friends and Foes

“Whew, that was close,” said Hunter with a sigh of relief. “I really thought they were going to find me.”

“They would have, you know, if it hadn’t been for me.”

“Who and where are you? Are you the strange Prickler they were talking about?”

“Indeed I am, little friend. My name is Spike and I’m right here, one branch below you. You were so frightened and anxious to find a safe place that you didn’t notice me, climbin' up behind you.”

“You’re the reason that the Howlers went away, aren’t you? Are you dangerous?”

“Not to you, little one. If you come closer, we can have a proper introduction and share our stories. Just be sure that when you climb down, you don’t get TOO close to me. You’ll see why when you get here.”

“Well, Spike, I think I can trust you, so make way. I’m going to back down this tree. Please tell me when close is TOO close, OK?”

Hunter made his descent to the lower branch without any mishap and found himself face to face with yet another peculiar creature. There was a kindly furry face attached to a very unusual body. The front part was very nicely furred, but the back part and tail were covered in hair and long sharp-looking spines.

“Well, now I know why they called you a Prickler,” said Hunter. “What do you do with those things? Do they help you get food? Oh, Spike, excuse me. I haven’t even told you my name and here I go asking too many questions.”

“No harm done, uh…what did you say your name was?”

“I apologize again. My name is Hunter and I’m hunting for a home and family, among other things. My nerves must really be on edge because of that pack of Howlers. My Mother would think me most impolite, Spike.”

“Greetings, Hunter. I can tell you’ve never met a Prickler before. I think perhaps it’s time for a little lesson, in case of another chance meetin' with one o' my kind.”

“I’d appreciate that, Spike. If the Howlers don’t want a dispute with you, then neither do I.”

“Well, first of all, if you ever meet any Pricklers again, you need the passwords that let 'em know you’re a friend, not a foe. Come closer, I don’t want to say it too loud, in case there are any other curious ears around.”

Hunter came up to Spike until their noses were almost touching. “What are the passwords, please?” whispered Hunter.

“Now keep this to yourself, won’t you. Do you promise?”

“I promise to always keep the Prickler passwords private.”

“Okay, then, here they are. Whenever you come upon a Prickler, just ask this question…you really promise you won’t tell?”

“On my honor, Spike, I promise never, never to tell a soul.”

“All right then, here’s the question. ‘Does the ferocious FurMountain make brown logs in the forest?’”

“Oh, Spike, you don’t mean it!” Hunter began to laugh, the first laugh he’d had in a long, long time. He laughed so hard he could barely keep his perch on the tree branch. “I’m sorry. I think I might be a tiny bit silly. It must be from all the excitement. I’ve been in quite a few scrapes lately and this is such a relief. FurMountains in the forest… it’s just too funny for words.” Hunter began to laugh again until tears were rolling down his face. (If you’ve never heard a cat laugh, it’s somewhere between a cough and a purr. It comes out in short little bursts, sort of like hiccups, but closer together.)

“Now, Hunter, I don’t think it’s all THAT funny and you won’t either if you ever meet a FurMountain or an unfriendly Prickler. But we’ve gotten off the subject. You must pay attention! You don’t even know the answer yet. Please calm yerself down and listen. It could be important some day.”

“I’m sorry, Spike. I don’t mean to make fun of your passwords, but…. FurMountains! Okay, when I meet a Prickler, I ask him that question. I can’t even say it out loud. Krr, Krr, Krr.” (This is the sound of one cat laughing.) “What will the Prickler’s answer be?” asked Hunter, trying to keep a serious expression on his face.

“All right, settle down please, Hunter. After you ask, ‘Does the ferocious FurMountain make brown logs in the forest?’ The Prickler will answer, ‘One that would have the fruit, must climb the tree.’ Now repeat the passwords for me until I’m sure you have 'em right.”

“Repeat the passwords! Oh, Spike, I could never forget those passwords.” There were a few more laughs that finally turned into giggles and at last Hunter was able to turn to Spike and talk in a fairly normal voice. “Please believe me Spike, I really don’t mean any disrespect to you or any of the Pricklers. I think I just needed a release from all the tension I’ve been under. I’m so glad to have met you, that I would hug you, if I could.”

“That’s all right Hunter, no offense taken. Just remember what I told you. You never know when you might need a friend in a sticky situation, if you get my point…no pun intended.”

“Well, Spike, I’ll always be thankful for meeting you tonight. I think we should share our stories. You still haven’t told me about those spines of yours, although I have some pretty good ideas for using them. Maybe you could wade in the water and catch fish. How about picking berries, all you would have to do is walk through the bushes or roll on the ground.”

“Oh, Hunter, now it’s my turn to laugh. Why do you think those Howlers left me alone? My spines, as you called ‘em, are quills, and they’re my best defense. If someone thinks they can take a bite out of me, they end up with a face full of quills. They’re mighty hard to get rid of too, since they have a kind of hook on ‘em that goes right into my attacker’s skin. Some of the silly critters think I can even throw my quills at ‘em. Now that’s just not so, but if it keeps ‘em away from me, who am I to tell ‘em the truth? As for fish or berries, I’ve got no use for them. I get my food right up here in the trees. Nice fresh bark and tender branches. Yup, that’s a real satisfying meal, I must say.”

“Well, so far, I haven’t had to resort to eating trees, but I certainly wouldn’t mind some sort of meal right now. It’s been quite a while since I felt satisfied. Do you think there’s anything around here that a small Cat could eat?”

“Well, Hunter. Now that I get a good look at you, you do look a little worse for wear and mighty skinny too, if you don’t mind me sayin’ so. There are quite a few small critters livin’ around this water that would probably be wholesome to eat, if you can catch ‘em, that is. Now, you climb right down and have a go at it. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay up here and keep watch and have a bit of supper while I’m at it.”

Hunter made his way down the tree and started to explore. It wasn’t long before he came upon a small green creature sitting by the water’s edge. Hunter crouched down, waggled his rear till his position was just right, and pounced! To his immense surprise, the green one hopped into the water and disappeared.

“Wow, I really thought I had that one right where I wanted him. What a jump! Where did he go?” Hunter could hear Spike chuckling up in the tree. “It wouldn’t be so funny if you were the one with the empty tummy, Spike.” Hunter looked back in the water and saw the Green One floating right in the middle of the stream, well out of his reach. As Hunter was pondering his next move, he heard a strange twanging voice.

“You better go home, bug-yum. You better go home, bug-yum.” It was the Green One, now sitting on a large leaf in the middle of the water, looking straight at Hunter with his big solemn eyes.

Hunter was astonished. “Why, that’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” he marveled. “How did you know that, and what’s with the bug-yum thing?”

Spike started to chuckle again and called down to Hunter. “Ah, don’t pay any attention to that one. That’s all he can say, and the only thing he’s interested in is his ‘bug-yum’ because bugs are all he eats… a pretty dull fella to my way of thinkin’. You won’t catch ‘im either, and even if you did, he’d taste real bad, I bet, sort of muddy and slimy at the same time. But that’s only a guess, don’t ya know, with me bein’ a tree-a-tarian.”

“Well, I’ve got to find something to eat! I need to keep up my strength.” So Hunter stalked along the water’s edge until he spotted a hapless Squeaker, very preoccupied with eating some seeds. This time his waggle and pounce were perfect. After a tasty meal, a drink of the fresh cool water, and a satisfying wash-up, Hunter felt much better. It was only after he settled down for a nap that he realized that the song of the Green One was becoming a full chorus. Everywhere, he heard them singing; “You better go home. You better go home. You better go home.”

“Listen to them, Spike. It’s some kind of message, just for me. They know that I must find a safe place to call home. I guess I’ll have to start sooner than I planned. I’m sorry I didn’t get to know you better, Spike. You really did save my life, you know. I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for Pricklers, especially if they’re all like you.”

“That’s a mighty nice thing to say, Hunter. I guess I’ll think better of you Cat Folk, too. If you’re lookin’ for the houses of the Big Ones, I do believe there’s one near the next forest, not too far from here. Promise me you’ll be more careful in your travels. I want to think of you, livin’ warm and comfy, with no worries in your little head. I won’t forget you either, Hunter. We could have been great pals, but Cat Folk are better off inside a house. Livin’ out here, they might end up inside somebody else’s insides, or just a splot in the hard path. Good journey to you, my little friend and don’t forget the passwords.”

“Don’t worry, Spike. That’s something I’ll always remember. Long life to you and all your kin.”

So Hunter again began his search, a little wiser and a little sadder, but determined to find a family of his own.