It happened about five years ago. My neighbor, old Granny Vera, had just buried her husband, a war veteran, leaving her completely alone since they had no children. She would often reminisce about her dear Mitten.
They’d gotten married right before the war, and when her husband went off to fight, loyal Rina (short for Verina) waited for his return. Mitten came back alive, albeit without his left hand. He cherished his wife deeply, swearing he’d always protect her from harm, but he couldn’t keep that promise. He passed away, leaving her all alone.
Right around the anniversary of his death, a large black cat appeared at her place. He showed up at night, seemingly out of nowhere, and pitifully mewed at the door. A fierce snowstorm raged outside, the wind howling terribly, yet somehow Granny Vera heard the cries. She opened the door to find the strange cat. Feeling sorry for the poor creature, she let him in and even placed a little dish of milk for him.
But the proud and independent feline refused the offering, promenading through the rooms instead. After inspecting the house, he settled on her pillow, began to purr, and promptly fell asleep.
Strangely, Granny Vera didn’t try to shoo him away and instead lay down beside him. In the morning, she examined the cat closely. Well-fed and well-groomed, he didn’t look like a stray! Jet-black, with enormous green eyes and an air of arrogance. Another remarkable detail: his left front paw was missing a few toes, as if someone had torn them off. “Just like my Mitten!” she tearfully remarked.
The cat, meanwhile, softly jumped onto her lap and purred.
“You’ll need a name… How about Whiskers?” she suggested while gently stroking him and scratching behind his ears. The cat flinched and gave her such a human-like look that she was taken aback.
HIS EYES WERE HUMAN! NOT “LIKE HUMAN” BUT “HUMAN!”
“Okay, not Whiskers. Maybe Timothy? That’s a nice name!” she blurted out hurriedly.
Annoyed, the cat meowed, jumped off her lap, growled, and started scratching at the sofa.
“Alright, alright. I won’t name you just yet. You’ll simply be Cat. Just leave the sofa alone,” she politely asked.
Mumbling something unintelligible, Cat obliged and solemnly retreated to another room.
And so Granny Vera and Cat settled into a life together.
I visited her often, and she would tell me incredible stories about Cat! For one, Cat had healing powers. After her husband’s death, Granny Vera suffered a heart attack and her heart troubled her frequently. But whenever she lay down, Cat would snuggle on her chest with his soft body, purr, and fall asleep. The pain would disappear, as if it had never existed!
And then there was a rather peculiar incident. Granny Vera was resting and Cat was napping beside her, purring sweetly. Someone knocked on the door. Granny Vera got up to answer it, Cat trailing behind her. There stood Victor, the town drunk and troublemaker. He wedged his foot in the door, cursing profanely, demanding money for booze. The old lady refused, but he persisted, growing bolder by the minute. It escalated until he hurled insults at her and defamed the memory of her deceased husband.
Suddenly, Cat growled fiercely and leaped at the miscreant. Victor shoved him away, but Cat charged again, nearly sinking his claws into his throat. Spewing curses, Victor retreated.
Cat then gave Granny Vera a meaningful, HUMAN gaze, raised his tail proudly, and with a sense of duty fulfilled, withdrew to the room.
Once, Granny Vera planned to visit the council about firewood, and she asked me to accompany her. We planned to take the bus to the nearest town. I agreed and, having taken time off work, arrived at her place early in the morning.
She was sitting on her bed in her nightclothes, looking bewildered and a bit dismayed.
“Granny Vera, why aren’t you ready? Let’s go, maybe a ride will come by,” I suggested.
“I’m not going, Emma. Sorry,” she whispered.
“Why not?”
“I don’t know how to say this… Don’t laugh… But Cat told me not to go.”
“What?! I took time off work, and you’re listening to a cat?!” I chided.
“Listen, Emma. I set everything up last night and went to bed. I dreamed that Cat was talking to me, just like you are now… He looked at me and said:
‘Stay home, Rina. You mustn’t travel tomorrow.’
I was speechless! It wasn’t just that Cat spoke to me! He called me Rina! Rina! Understand?! Only my dear departed Mitten called me that! AND CAT’S VOICE WAS EXACTLY LIKE MITTEN’S!
And then Cat started singing that song. The very one Mitten loved:
‘Across the wild moors of Yorkshire
Where gold lies hidden in the hills…
Remember, Rina, I sang it before I went to fight?’
I managed to ask:
‘Mitten, is that you?!’
‘WHO ELSE?! I SEE HOW HARD IT IS FOR YOU ALONE, SO I RETURNED…’
So, Rina, calm down and stay home tomorrow. You won’t hear anything good there anyway. The wood will arrive in a week regardless. Tell Lucy to cancel her operation. She won’t survive it…’
Then I woke up…”
To say I was shocked would be an understatement! I stood silently, gasping like a fish out of water.
Then it hit me:
“Granny Vera, how are you feeling? Maybe I should call the doctor? Your blood pressure might’ve spiked.”
“Never felt better, Emma! I got to speak with my dear Mitten!” she replied with a tearful smile.
I checked her blood pressure, surprisingly, it was normal!
From that moment, Granny Vera began calling her cat Mitten. Strangely enough, he responded to that name immediately!
Soon, Granny Vera’s (or Cat’s?) predictions started coming true. The public bus we were supposed to take nearly flipped over that very day. There was ice on the road, the bus skidded, and the driver lost control. Thankfully, no one died, but many were injured. A coincidence? Perhaps. And a week later, as predicted, her firewood arrived…
Granny Vera asked me to call Lucy, Mitten’s niece, to cancel her scheduled operation. But she didn’t listen and died on the operating table…
ANOTHER COINCIDENCE?! I don’t think so.
So they continued living together, Granny Vera and her cat Mitten. He still healed and protected her, staying by her side until the very end…
Granny Vera lived to be 94. She passed away last year. Until her last moment, she was on her feet, always worrying about her Mitten. She made me promise to care for him if anything happened to her.
She passed quietly in her sleep, without pain…
I remember how Mitten mourned for Granny Vera. He was no longer young and his once majestic black coat had turned gray.
All three days that her body lay in the house, Mitten didn’t leave her side. I SAW HIM SHEDDING TEARS!
People scolded, shooed, kicked him away… But somehow he kept turning up beside the coffin. Sitting and weeping!
Mitten followed the hearse to her grave, and once Granny Vera was buried, he remained there. I tried to catch the poor fellow to take him home, but he ran off…
He stayed at the cemetery, by the graves of Granny Vera and her husband. Mitten didn’t want to come with me, so I visited daily and fed him.
I worried a lot about how he’d fare in the winter and tried to forcibly bring him to my place. One time I succeeded, but he escaped the same day, and I found him back at the cemetery.
The winter was harsh, but he survived it. He passed away in early spring. When I went to feed him as usual, I found him on the grave. Curled up next to Granny Vera’s cross, Mitten seemed to watch over her in eternal peace…
I don’t know if Mitten was just an ordinary cat or if the spirit of dear Mitten truly inhabited him.
There’s much talk about reincarnation these days, about how in the next life, one could become anything, even a cat.
I don’t know if such things are possible. But for some reason, I want to believe that the soul of Grandpa Mitten lived on in that cat. He returned to his beloved Rina to protect and save her…
And he stayed with her to the very end, just as he promised.
