Wild Road

A lifelong cat lover, Gabriel King has shared a home with every variety of feline, from stray to pedigree. He lives in London. Among human beings a cat is merely a cat; among cats a cat is abr prowling shadow in a jungle.br --Karel CapekbrbrbrThey called the kitten Tag. They fed him, and he grew. They put a collarbraround his neck. They entertained him, and the world began to take onbrshape.brbrIt was his world, full of novelty yet always reliable, exciting yetbrsecure. He was a small king; and by the time a week was out, he hadbrexplored every inch of his new kingdom. He liked the kitchen best. It wasbrwarm in there on a cold day, and from the windowsill he could see out intobrthe garden. In the kitchen they made food, which was easy to get off them.brHe had bowls of his own to eat it from. He had a box of clean dirt tobrscrat in. The kitchen wasn't entirely comfortable--especially in thebrmorning, when things went off or went around very loudly withoutbrwarning--but elsewhere they had given him a large sofa, covered in dark redbrvelvet, among the scattered cushions of which he scrabbled and burrowedbrand slept. He had brass tubs with plants and some very interestingbrfireplaces full of dried flowers, out of which flowed odors damp and sooty.brbrUp a flight of stairs and into every room, every cupboard and corner! Itbrwas big up there, and full of unattended human things. At first hebrwouldn't go on his own but always made one of them accompany him while hebrinspected the shelves stuffed with clean linen and dusty books.brbr"Come on, come on!" he urged them. "Here now! Look, here!" They neverbranswered.brbrThey were too dull.brbrA further flight up, and it was as if nobody had ever lived there--echoesbron the uncarpeted stairs, gray floorboar