Faithful furry friends

Ashrafi Antia writes about a heartwarming tale of loyalty, care and companionship between a golden retriever and a tabby cat

One evening, whilst I was walking my dog Sonny, he stopped under a tree in the park and kept barking. When I called to him, he refused to come, straining at the leash, planting his feet, and refusing to budge. He kept looking up into the tree and then at me, barking incessantly. This was rather unusual behaviour, as Sonny was an obedient, well-behaved dog.

“What’s the matter, boy?” I asked, peering up into the tree. “What’s up there?” That’s when I heard a soft mew. Shading my eyes from the glare of the setting sun, I scanned the leafy canopy of the banyan tree and spied a frightened little kitten clinging to a branch for dear life. The tiny tabby cat’s grey coat was camouflaged against the greyish-brown bark of the tree. “Don’t worry, little kitty,” I called up reassuringly. “I’ll get you down from there.” Climbing the tree, I managed to rescue the helpless little kitten. It was trembling in fright. I petted the tiny furball soothingly. Looking around, I half expected to see its mother appear, but there was no sign of her. Sonny, too, slathered the little kitten with affectionate licks.

I couldn’t just abandon the kitten that I had rescued, so I decided to take it home with me. I put out a saucer of milk for her, which she lapped up thirstily. The little tabby cat soon made herself at home. Sonny was very protective, loving, and caring towards her. The kitten, too, felt comfortable with Sonny and grew quite attached to him. Sonny, our golden retriever with his sunny disposition, used to take his toys to the kitty to play. Surprisingly, Sonny even allowed the kitten to share his bed. They slept there, cuddled up together.

Mum said, “Don’t get too attached to the pussycat. Someone may come looking for it.” We were not allowed to name her, so we referred to her as Kitty. “Here, Kitty, Kitty,” we used to call, and the name ‘Kitty’ just stuck.

Sonny was careful to teach Kitty to stay out of Grandma’s way, in case she tripped over either of them. If Grandma dropped her stick, Sonny would pick it up and hand it to her. He was a caring, responsible dog.

One day, it was pouring with rain. When we called Kitty for lunch, she was nowhere to be found. “Where’s Kitty?” I asked Sonny. He ran out of the house into the pouring rain and returned after an hour, drenched, but leading the lost, bedraggled kitten home. “That’s the second time you’ve rescued her,” I told Sonny, patting him on the head whilst he wagged his wet tail. “No wonder Kitty adores you and looks on you as her saviour,” I said.

Our two furry pets became inseparable from that day on. It was as if Sonny was saying, “I’m not letting you out of my sight, you naughty Kitty,” and she followed him wherever he went.

When my cousin Simi came to visit us from England, she brought her six-month-old baby, Natasha, with her. Everyone fussed over the little one, who was the centre of our attention. We used to gather around her pram, trying to make her smile, cooing and making silly faces to grab her attention.

One day, Simi wanted to take baby Natasha out for a stroll in her pram. Of course, Sonny and Kitty followed. Catch them missing a chance for a walk! Just as they stepped out of the front door, Simi’s mobile phone rang, and she realised she had left it in the dining room. She ran in to fetch it, leaving the pram unattended in our driveway. She didn’t realise that our driveway sloped downwards to the compound gate.

The pram started rolling, gaining momentum as it rolled down the driveway with baby Natasha in it. Intelligent Sonny realised something was wrong and that this was dangerous. He raced in front of the pram, stopping it first with his body and then by putting his paws on its wheels. In the meantime, Kitty raced to the kitchen and raised the alarm by meowing loudly and tugging at Mum’s flared pants, which she would normally only brush against.

Mum came rushing out to see Sonny preventing the pram from rolling away. “Great teamwork, guys!” she called, putting the brakes on the pram and hugging both Sonny and Kitty. That evening, the two friends got a special treat for saving the day and baby Natasha.

When Sonny grew old, he developed cataracts in his eyes and couldn’t see very well. We put a ghungroo (bell) on Kitty’s collar. Sonny would follow her around by listening to the tinkling of the bell. It was a case of reversal of roles. Now it was Kitty’s turn to take care of Sonny, and she did so by helping him avoid bumping into people and furniture. They always remained together, forever faithful furry friends.