Merl, The Kitten Who Wasn't

Disclaimer: The “story” which follows was fully intended to be a satirical play on a rather odd and somewhat unfortunate dream.  The subconscious toys and so the writer in me was called to respond. It’s humorous outsourcing and ultimate end fulfills what has become a joke and comical tale in the reality of a Wesley Woods summer.  Its cynical portrayal and bitter satire in no way reflects this author’s actual views on adoption or other means to inclusion and additions.  On the contrary, as one quite familiar with the feeling of being unable to belong, I would wholeheartedly support anything to the contrary in actuality.  It is for the sake of the story alone, I write… 

Prequel:

Cinderella.

Goldilocks.

Hansel (and/or Gretel).

Rapunzel.

The Boy (who happened to cry “wolf!”).

Aladdin (or Jasmine for that matter!).

Snow White.

The Ugly Duckling.

All bear the traumatic ties of unfortunate reality.

Oh sure, they all end “happily ever after”…or at least that’s what everyone wants you to believe.  But in actuality, the common denominator lies in the fact all are, at the core, stories of things which don’t belong. 

It’s a tragic truth of unforeseen proportions. 

In a dark world of sad consequence, it’s nice to believe that everything ends in sunshine and rainbows. 

We quote “all will be all right in the end” and that “if it is not all right, it’s not the end”.

We want to believe nothing is as bad as it seems, life will go on, and good will prevail. 

We want a reason to hope and the outcast a place to fit in with the rest.

That would be fair.

But life is not fair. 

No, the reality is much more grim.

Sometimes it is cruel and brutal.

The world is an unforgiving place with harsh certainty.

Which means that in this world, the outcasted is pushed to the side.

And sometimes the cheese does stand alone.

For in this life, there are things which just don’t belong. 

As is the case with Merl, the kitten who wasn’t…

Merl, The Kitten Who Wasn't (and other stories of things that don't belong)

Once upon a time, on a crisp dark night, a cat was traveling home to the farm where she lived.  Patches, as she was called, was heavy and round and walked slowly down the dirt road with her pregnant belly almost rubbing on the ground.  She knew her kittens would be coming very soon and she was eager to get back to the clean straw in the warm barn. 

She heard a rustling in the branches and the far off sound of an engine.  Patches paused and hissed, the hair on her back rose in fear.  Oh, if only she hadn’t agreed to one last bowl of warm milk with her sister down the way!  She had known this would be one of the last opportunities she would have to go visit with her sister, a house cat, until the kittens were weaned.  But she should have been wiser about the time she left.  Her little paws were aching and she was breathless from walking.  The kittens inside her squirmed. 

“Hold on little ones!” She said gently.  “We’re almost home!”

It was just then that a shadowy creature moved about ten paces in front of her.  She focused in to see a mother raccoon carrying one of her kits by the scruff of its neck.  She dropped it on the side of the road before going back for the second of her litter. 

“It won’t be long now…”  She thought of her own impending litter.  She could see the light from the barn up ahead.  How eager she was to return home! 

She sat for just a moment before continuing.  Was it just her or was the barn light getting brighter?  She rubbed her eyes.  It was getting brighter! And it was coming closer.  A sudden fear welled up inside of her and she felt powerless to move.

Almost out of nowhere, the moving light appeared with two blinding beams.  A truck flew over the hill and drove down the center of the road.  The mother raccoon froze in terror with her little kit, unsure of the approaching beast.  If only she had moved!  The truck smashed into her with a resounding “thud” and continued on as if nothing had transpired.  As if the power of life and death wasn’t in the clutches of those massive tires.  As if the world were infinite and actions bore no consequence.  If only…

The mother cat continued to sit in shocked horror as the dust settled.  With the cloud of smoke but a memory, she shuddered and whimpered a sad “meow” at the bloody and lifeless bodies of the raccoon and her cub in the middle of the road.  Her maternal instinct flared and she stood with a surprising amount of energy.  She must get herself and her unborn kittens home to where it was safe!

Patches walked with an impressive speed for a cat in her condition.  However, she hadn’t gone but eight or nine paces before she heard the pathetic cries of a small animal.  Of course! The first of the two raccoon cubs!  She walked a bit further and searched for the small babe. 

“Mm-mm-mother? Mmooothher?” He whimpered till at last the cat came near.

“Shush now, little one!  Tell me your name.”  She said in a worried frenzy. 

“Mm-mmear-mm-oother?”  The small raccoon cried again.

Patches looked down at its closed eyes.  “Raccoons are born deaf and blind! He can’t see me! He has no idea anything has happened! The poor dear. He musn’t be more than a week or two old…” A wave of motherly instinct swept over her.

“I’m not your mother but someone must tend to you! And if you come with me now, when you open your eyes, you’ll know me as nothing less.”  With a bout of compassion, she swept up that little raccoon kit by the scruff of his neck and began to walk the rest of the length to the barn.  The small “mews” of the little guy quieted in the presence of a mother’s care and Patches vowed to raise him as her own. 

She reached the barn, exhausted, and laid the cub down on a straw nest.  “Welcome home, young one.” She said, looking at the sleeping baby.  “I shall call you Merl…”  Then she too laid down to sleep as she was weary from her travels.

Sleep did not last long for Patches, however.  Before the night was over Patches gave birth to three perfect kittens: Whiskers, Socks, and Sue.  She gathered her four little ones together and was very proud of her small family.

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 And so the kittens grew.  It was only another two weeks before Merl opened his eyes.  When he did so, he looked lovingly at Patches, the one who had fed and cared for him, the only mother he truly knew.  In reality, Merl knew none else.  Hers was the only voice he’d ever heard.  The only face he’d ever seen.  He had no reason to believe Patches wasn’t the mother of more than just his heart.  And Patches, on her part, never said anything.  The night Merl’s real mother had died had been so traumatic.  Letting him believe she was his actual mother was truly for the best.  After all what harm could it do?  For all practical purposes, he was just like the other three!

  

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 But after a time, it was Merl himself who didn’t feel “just like the others”.  While his brother and sisters were growing to be long and slender with tall legs, his arms and legs remained short and stocky – much like the rest of his body (which was much more wide than long).  Whiskers and Socks and Sue wanted to frolic and play in the meadow during the day (with lots of time to nap of course!) but, Merl?  Merl just wanted to sleep!  It was at night he wanted to roam!  And when it came to time to eat?  Why, Merl was in to just about everything!  The other kittens were satisfied with milk and dry cereal, which was fine from time to time.  But Merl craved the crayfish from the stream or even a piece of watermelon.  Sue, especially, just thought he was “sooo weird!” 

Patches tried to praise him for his strengths.  Merl was good with his hands and had a curiosity that far surpassed her other kittens.  And he was so smart!  If he got himself into a tangle his curiosity had caused, it could be sure he would find a way out of it!  But she was becoming concerned.  How long before he started to ask questions?  Or the other kittens did?  What would she say? 

  

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 “Mother!!!” Socks cried.  “He’s doing it again!”  Patches was much better at climbing than his brother and sisters and would all but race up and down the trees. Twice Socks had followed just to prove she was as good as he was…only to get stuck and later have to be rescued by the farmer on his ladder.  Socks saw any tree climbing as mockery and teasing.

“Now Merl!”  Patches chided her son.  “Be sensitive to your sisters feelings!  Why don’t you join Whiskers in catching mice?  Or join Sue wit the ball of yarn the farmer’s wife gave to her?  Be good!”

She had watched her eldest son walk away from the tree but it wasn’t long before more cries were heard from her young kittens.

“Mother!!  Help!  He’s trapped me and he’s done it on purpose!  Help me, mother! Help!”  Patches ran exasperated and fearful towards the grain stores in the barn. Propelled by the sound of Whiskers’ muffled voice.  Merl rounded the corner as she approached. 

“Merl! Now what have you done??”  She questioned angrily. 

His eyes looked even darker behind his black mask as his sad eyes fell.  “I didn’t mean to Mama, I promise!  We were chasing mice, just like you said.  I jumped into an old grain bin and scurried that little mouse right out!  Whiskers, he followed me in!  I didn’t know he was gonna get stuck!”

“Now now, see here.  You may have not meant to but you did!  Now help your brother get out.  And then find Sue and stay out of trouble!”  This boy of hers was unlike any kitten she’d ever encountered!  Some days he was so peculiar she just didn’t know what to do!

Merl helped tip over the grain bin and released Whiskers who curled up next to his mother.  Merl walked off slowly and sheepishly until he encountered Sue.  The smallest of them all, she was cute and everyone’s favorite and therefore the most spoiled.  Like a little princess, she was eager to be better than everyone else.  Merl found her contentedly batting a ball of yarn back and forth.

“Can I join you?”  Merl asked, hoping his bratty little sister would agree to having him around.

“Yes you may.”  Sue answered surprisingly sweet and welcoming. Then her eyes narrowed in a testy challenge.  “But this is my brand new ball of yarn!  It is beautiful and perfect just like me!  And if anything happens to it, Merl!  Well, I shall never forgive you.  You must be careful!”  and with that she smiled and replied sweetly “you stand over there!”

So they batted the yarn back and forth a few times.  Merl was glad that for once no one was angry at him and continued to swat the ball.  But he was so curious!  So when Sue ran off suddenly to chase a butterfly, Merl held the ball of yarn in his hands and turned it over and over.  Without thinking, he began unraveling the tightly wound construction until all he had was a pile of string. 

Sue returned and began to sob.  “My ball!  My perfect ball!  You ruined it, Merl!  You ruin everything!  Why don’t you go open a jar or something and leave me alone!”

And so Merl cast his head down and slowly walked away.

As the days wore on, Merl was left more and more out of the activities of his siblings.  They would often go off to play and not invite him. 

“It was a game for three…”  Whiskers would explain.

“You don’t fit it in…” Socks would say emphatically.

“You’re SOO weird!”  Sue would remind him. 

His mother separated him even more, although she didn’t mean to.  One day she gave each of her kittens a brand new pair of mittens.  All except Merl that is.  “I’m sorry Merl, your hands are just too different!”

Everyday Merl felt more and more like an outsider.  He loved his mother and he loved his brother and his sisters but something told him he just didn’t belong. He wanted to be a good cat.  He didn’t know why he was so different!  He tried to fit in like the others.  He climbed in boxes and napped in the sun.  He chased mice and drank milk and tried to behave.  But it didn’t work.  At the end of the day, he wasn’t like the others.  He found himself pillaging the farmer’s trashcan at night for tasty things to eat and he slept all day.  “At least sleeping will mean I stay out of the way…”  He said with a melancholy voice. 

  

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One afternoon, Merl was down at the stream fishing for crawdads on beautiful and clear summer day.  He looked down into a pool of water that had collected between the rocks and caught his reflection.  He stopped and studied his characteristics for a while.  His tail was long with lots of stripes like Whiskers.  He had dark hands like Socks and pointy little ears like Sue.  The band which crossed his eyes reminded him a little bit of his mother’s colored patches.  But his teeth were his own.  As were his hands – far more like hands than his brother and sisters’ paws.  And his fur was thick and bushy.  Yet, what really caught him and left him stranded, were his eyes. Dark and beady.  Not like a cat’s at all… Something about his reflections, was quite wrong.  Something inside told him he didn’t belong…

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Merl ran back to the barn only to find all three of his siblings crying to their mother.  “Mother dear, see here!  See here!” Socks was saying.  “Our mittens we have lost!”

“It’s his fault!” Sue said suddenly pointing to Merl!  “He probably stole them and unraveled them just like my beautiful yarn ball!” 

Merl began to inch backwards, “I didn’t, I swear.  I didn’t do it!” 

“I’ve seen your collection of treasures!”  Whiskers accused.  “You keep it in our room! Mostly coins shiny pieces of tin and metal but I bet Sue is right.  Maybe you did steal them!”

“Why don’t you just leave!  And leave us all alone!  No one likes you!”  Socks declared through her tears.

“Now children!” Patches exclaimed horrified.  She had seen the discord but she didn’t know it had gotten this bad.  “Be kind to your brother!  Just because he is a little different…”

“But why?  Why mother?  Why am I different?”  Merl exclaimed through sobs and tears which reminded her of the cries which came from such a small raccoon the night she found him.

“Come children.  You all must listen to this.  It is far past time I told you, Merl.  Told you all.”  And so Patches sat her four kittens down and told them about the horrifying night they were born.  And about how Merl alone had survived the accident.  And how she vowed to raise him as her own.

“How could you, mother!”  Socks exclaimed.  “Raise a raccoon as your own?  You can’t!  He’s not your own!”

Sue chimed in.  “He’s not a real cat!  He’s not a cat at all.  You’re practically a weasel!”

“Some brother you are!” Whisker spat. “Adopted doesn’t make you one of us!  You don’t fit in!”

And so Merl was shunned and cast out once and for all.  It was confirmed for him that day what he’d known in his heart all along… He wasn’t a kitten and he didn’t belong.