Anran’s Nine Lives

I am a cat. I’ve always known I am a cat. I live alone in this city, and I’ve been here for as long as I can remember. I don’t really know how long it’s been, but I do know that cold days are always the hardest. I’ve survived about four winters so far. The place where I live is full of these tall houses, one squeezed next to the other. It’s easy for me to move between them—climbing walls, jumping over fences, sneaking through tiny gaps. Sometimes, I like to sit on the rooftops and watch the two-legged creatures below. They’re always rushing around, doing the same things every day, and then returning to the same place. How strange. They don’t seem very free to me. But there’s something good about these two-legged creatures: they often leave delicious food in their yards. At first, I wasn’t sure what it was, but after they returned inside, I crept closer to sniff it. That smell! It was heavenly. A true feast. My friends and I often roam through these yards, searching for the treats left behind. The two-legged creatures don’t seem to mind us being there. In fact, it feels like they’ve accepted our presence. Thanks to them, I’ve never gone hungry—not like my friend Xiao Ba. Sometimes, when I pass by the garbage bins, I see him digging through the trash, looking for something to eat. At the intersection of these houses, there’s a large pavilion with stone benches underneath. On sunny days, light filters through the gaps in the roof, warming the benches below. It’s my favorite place to nap. Over time, the wisteria vines from a neighbour’s yard grew over the pavilion, covering it in purple flowers. During the warmer months, the flowers hang down like clusters of grapes, giving the pavilion shade and making it even more comfortable. I often nap there at noon. Sometimes, my friends join me. By the time we wake up in the afternoon, the smaller two-legged creatures—schoolchildren, I think—are walking past the pavilion with their bags. A few of the boys stop by to give me snacks or scratch my belly. I didn’t mind the attention too much, though at first, I was cautious. The first time they offered me something, it smelled strange—definitely not food for a cat. A couple of days later, one of the boys brought me something different. It smelled amazing, so I decided to give it a try. Since then, he’s always brought me the same snack, and I’ve made it a habit to wait for him here every afternoon. Being fed like this… it’s not so bad. In fact, I might even like it. And so, the days went on. I roamed the streets and alleys, played with my friends, and waited for the little two-legged creatures to return from school and feed me snacks. At night, I wandered into the yards, looking for food left behind, before curling up in a small corner to sleep. I thought my days would continue like this, day after day—simple yet not without a sense of freedom. They say cats have nine lives, but I could never understand why I would need nine lives. It wasn’t until I met Yi Yi that I finally realized the true purpose of those nine lives.