The Dead Cat
March 13th 2008 21:00
Photo by Khamaileon. Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
I must have been about five years old when I came across a dead ginger tabby cat lying in my neighbour’s front garden. The cat was lying on its left side. I remember my mother telling me she used to eat cat back in China so I decided to bring the cat home for her to cook. I tried to move it but it was like a dead weight. So in the end I gave up. Instead, I ran home and said, “Mum, there’s a dead cat next door. I wanted to bring it home for you to cook.” My mother looked horrified.
“Have you got it with you?” she asked.
“No,” I said, wondering what I had done wrong.
“Where is the cat?”
“Next door.”
“Leave it there.”
“Why?” I asked, disappointed. I had hoped my mum would have thought it was a nice surprise.
“Because,” she said. “This isn’t China. Here, cats are considered pets and no one eats them. What is okay back in China isn’t necessarily okay over here.”
I later went and grabbed two paddle pop sticks and glued them together to make a cross. I stuck the cross behind the dead cat. When I checked the next day the cat and the cross were gone.
It wasn’t until many years later I found out my mum had a pet cat back in China. I thought my parents weren’t keen on cats or dogs as we weren’t allowed to have them. My grandma also told me that the Chinese only started eating cats and dogs when people were poor and close to starvation and there was nothing else to eat.
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