As a kitten I was abandoned. Not that my mother wanted to do so. She was simply a stray looking for food, and one day she didn’t come back.

My siblings and I were cute, and people tended to stop when they saw us in the alley. Some gave us food. Some simply tried to pet us, but none of us let them. We were scared. It’s not like a big human hand was very interesting unless it held food, and in that case, the food needed to be snatched away and eaten right away.

When I got older and learned to think, I realized I wasn’t exactly like other cats. Sure, I liked to hunt butterflies and I liked to laze around in the sun, but I wasn’t exactly as controlled by instinct as my siblings, nor other cats I met in my daily life.

When I was around a year, I was suddenly able to think much more clearly. It didn’t happen from one day to another, but I slowly came to properly think about things. I began to remember things I shouldn't be able to remember. Having two feet and hands. Having toes and fingers. Having a smiling face and words to speak with.

Somehow things started to make sense. I had been a human in a previous life, and for some reason, remnants of that stayed in my consciousness until I was ready to know what those fragments meant.

It didn’t impact my life much in the start, however. I was still a cat. I still went around all day, in search of warm and cozy places. I still slept in a huddle with my siblings until they disappeared one by one. I still hunted when I was starting to get hungry, as well as for fun when the mood took me.

I was very much a cat.

But cats couldn’t think as much as I. Other cats couldn’t stop chasing the butterfly because they knew it would be dangerous to go out on a road. Other cats didn’t know how to find humans that were more likely to give them food than others, and how to get that food in the most efficient way. Other cats didn’t miss things happening, other than the same day in and same day out. Hunt, kill, eat, sleep. Hunt, kill, eat, sleep.

And so, when my last sibling had left, I decided to go on my own adventure. I wanted to find a meaning with this new cat life of mine.

Especially since I might have nine of them, if legends are to be believed.

***

It was a cute house in the middle of nowhere. Or so it felt like. There were trees all around, a big garden and bushes that helped make the place feel secluded. In reality, there was a big road just on the other side of the wall made of trees, and walking just a bit from the door was a new street filled with houses.

I had come across it as I had made my daily food rounds. It seems like a nice place, both for my cat needs, as well as my adventure needs. The family in the house had a little girl, that would most likely be able to manipulate her two dads into getting a cat. Me.

For a while I had wanted to be adopted. To be taken to the vet and checked out. I’m not entirely sure if I would be neutered or not, but in either case, I’d like to make sure I’m healthy. From the itching I constantly felt, I was guessing I at least had flees. I tried inspecting things properly before eating them as well, since I was able to actually think about it, so hopefully I at least didn’t have worms.

My plan was simple. Butter up the daughter with my overwhelming cuteness, let her pet me, let her bring me to her parents, and show them how well-behaved I am.

First, I waited in their garden, making sure other cats didn’t come close. It wouldn’t be good if a cuter or younger or cleaner model came here first. As I marked off my territory, my overwhelming cat instinct felt like climbing one of the trees. A bird. I needed that bird. I needed to get up to that bird and attack it. Cat instincts. 

Mostly I had control of them, but a cat is still a cat, and even though conscious thought was something I could do, repressing my instincts and the way my body was wired was something I couldn’t always ignore.

So off I went. With sliding movements I navigated the tall grass, silently, jumping up only when the bird had no idea what was coming.

Sadly, I was too slow, and it flew off before I hit the branch it had sat on.

Which meant… I was in a tree. Pretty far up…

Cat instincts.

I didn’t want to jump down. Cats may always land on their legs, but I might have been afraid of heights in my previous life, as there was a resistance in me. Was I really a cat stuck in a tree?

“…Kitty!” A sweet voice rang out not too far away with excitement and pity.

Maybe this was all according to plan after all.

***

My plan had gone smoothly. I had infiltrated a house, and was well on my way to live my best cat life. No more living on the streets, no more looking for my next meal, no more close calls with dogs and other big animals.

Sure, the vet had been mean to my little cat body, but one must suffer first and enjoy later.

And the little girl… Well… She didn’t know how to pet me properly. Any other cat would have scratched her by now, but I was special. I could stand it. For a roof over my head, meals and playtime, I could stand anything.

And… Well… Maybe she was a little cute as well.

Her dads treated me with respect and petted me gently.

There really wasn’t much to complain about in my cat life, and so time went on…

And before I knew it, memories went fuzzy and blurry in the warm house filled with love and kindness.

Until one day, all there was left in my little cat head was…

Meow.