**A Mothers Heart**
«Mum, whos Phyllis? Is she our owner? Then why does she feed us so poorly?» Little curious eyes stared up at Sima, waiting for an answer. «No, my boy, she isnt our owner. Shes just an old, sick woman. Doesnt know what shes doing…» «Mum, will the big cats eat me too, like they did Sister?» whispered Rusty, trembling with fear. Sima sighed sorrowfully. «No, my love, they wont eat you! I promise!» She began licking her favouritenow her onlychild, and slowly, Rusty calmed and drifted into a sweet sleep.
Sima had been born in the basement of a block of flats. There were four kittens in her litter. Her mother had been very youngit was her first brood. The moment a new tomcat appeared, she forgot all about her kittens and ran off. Still, Sima remembered her with gratitude. Despite her flightiness, her mother had given them tenderness. She had nursed them, taught them to eat on their own. After she vanished, the kittens ventured out of the basement into the street. At first, they stayed together in the courtyard, where kind souls sometimes fed them.
Time passed. Grey Brother was hit by a car. Tiger was torn apart by dogs. Sima saw them off to the rainbow bridge, weeping over their cold little bodies. She sat with them until the caretaker chased her away. She watched as he scooped their stiff forms onto his shovel and tossed them into the bin. The fate of her sister remained unknown.
As she grew, Sima learned the laws of the streets. She lived quietly, keeping to herself, mastering invisibility.
Then she entered hell.
Phyllis.
She met her by the bins, where the old woman rummaged eagerly, stuffing things into her enormous bag. Phyllis fixed her with a mad stare and muttered, «Puss, come here, come to me!» No one had taught Sima to fear toothless old women, so she crept closer, hoping for food. Suddenly, Phyllis grabbed her under her arm, snatched up the bag, and shuffled toward the building.
Inside the flat, Phyllis dropped Sima to the floor. «Youre Sima now.» Then she forgot her entirely. Dozens of hungry eyes turned toward the newcomer. «Puss-puss-puss!» came Phylliss voice from the kitchen, where she sorted her «treasures.» The cats lost interest in Sima and dashed toward the call.
Sima looked aroundand shuddered. She hadnt known two-legged creatures could live like this. Piles of filthy, stinking clothes, mountains of unwashed dishes, animal waste everywhere, swarms of flies and cockroaches. And cats. So many cats. Most were cowed, starved, sick, their eyes haunted. But a few were sturdy, aggressive, confidentPhylliss favourites. Why she kept the others, even she didnt know.
Thus began Simas life in hell. Starvation, constant fear, sickness and death as routine, adult cats devouring newborn kittens before Phyllis could drown them in a bucket.
Slowly, Sima adapted. She found a hidden corner and kept to it.
Then, a month later, horror struckshe realised she would soon be a mother. On the streets, shed had a sweetheart, a dashing tom who courted her briefly. Now, in this hell, her children would be born.
She gave birth silently. The kittens were perfect: a black girl, like her father, and a ginger boy, the image of Sima. Button and Rusty.
How she protected them! But hunger drove the other cats closer, and soon the kittens, eyes now open, kept trying to slip from their hiding place.
The memory of that terrible day pained her deeply. She, who guarded them day and night, dozed for just a momentthen heard Buttons tiny squeak, followed by the crunch of little bones. Naïve little Button had crept out.
Sima snarled, fur bristling, ready to leap at the cat devouring her childuntil she heard Rustys voice. «Mum… did they eat Button?» She turned and saw his huge, terrified eyes. What would become of him if she died now in this hopeless fight?
She stopped, shielding Rusty with her body, and whispered through her tears, «Well escape. Ill save you.» Then she waited.
«Open up! Police!» A loud knock at the door. Phyllis flinched, darting about. «Neighbours have complained!» The officers werent leaving. With a sigh, Phyllis opened the doorjust as a ginger cat shot past, a kitten clutched in her jaws, streaking down the stairs.
George stared into her pain-clouded eyes, tears rolling down his cheeks. He understood. He knew what she was telling him. «Dont worry. Ill take care of him. Hell be safe.» Beside him sat Rustyuncharacteristically quiet, purring as he licked his mothers face. Sima was dying. Her little heart couldnt bear the loss of her daughter. She dreamed of her. Button called her to the rainbow bridge.
And Sima let go.
Her battered heart stopped forever.
The day she died, rain fell. George buried her beneath a birch grove, then stood with Rusty by her grave. He remembered how theyd come into his life. It had been a dark timehed just buried his parents, lost in a crash. But duty called. He recalled the mad old woman, the neighbours complaints, the stinking flat… and the ginger cat with her kitten at the door, unable to open it, pleading with her eyes.
Yes, he had been the officer whod unwittingly aided their escape. Hed crouched beside them. «Ran away? I dont blame you. Come live with me. Im so alone… Ill be kind, I promise.» He opened the car door, and the cat followed.
Thus, purpose returned to his life.
He called her «my beauty.» Rusty stayed Rusty. Georges wounded heart embraced these poor souls. He bought them the finest cat tree, the best food, every luxury. He tried so hard to make them forget their past.
When «his beauty» fell ill, he took her to the best vets, carried her in his arms, begged her to stay. But she… her gaze grew distant, as if pleading, «Let me go.»
Now, Sima ran along the rainbow bridge. Beside her scampered little Button on tiny black paws. There was no pain, only peace.
«Mum, what about Rusty? Hes all alone!» Button asked.
Sima smiled. «Hes not alone. He has a friend now. Look…»
The rain ceased, and a rainbow arched over the birch grove. George sighed deeply, lifting Rusty into his arms. He gazed into his honey-coloured eyes, brimming with tears, and kissed his damp nose. «Well be all right, little one.»
And they walked to the car. Two wounded heartsbut no longer alone. A strong, young man and a tiny kitten.
Rusty.
