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My sight was gone completely. Later, when I lived with the
Lama he spent much money to see what could be done, but
it was then discovered that my optic nerves had been severed
by the banging about that I had had.
The door opened and closed. Well? asked the woman.
I told the Supervisor I felt upset that one of God's creatures
should be treated so. He said Aw, sure, Sean, you always
were a one to feel such things, yes, take time off. So here I
am. How is she doing?
Hmm, so so, answered his wife, I wet her lips and she
had a bite of fish. She will recover, but she has had a terrible
time. The man fidgeted around, Get me some food, Mary,
and I will take the cat off to mother. I'll go out now and look
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to me tires. I sighed, MORE traveling, I wondered. The
pain within me was a dull throbbing ache. Around me there
was the clatter of dishes, and the sound of a fire being raked.
Presently the woman went to the door and called, Tea,
Sean, the kettle is on the boil . Sean came in and I heard
him wash his hands before settling down to his meal.
We have got to keep this quiet, said Sean, or we shall
have the Garda after us. If we can get her well, her kittens
will bring us money. These creatures are valuable, you
know. His wife poured another cup of tea before answering.
Your mother knows all about cats, she will bring this one
round if anyone will. Get yourself gone before the others
come off work. Aye, that I will, said Sean as he pushed
back his chair noisily and rose to his feet. They came over to
me and I felt my box being lifted. You can't put the box on
the carrier, Sean, said the woman, keep it under your arm,
I will fix a sling so that you can take the weight across your
shoulders, not that SHE has much weight, poor little soul!
Sean, with a strap across his shoulders and around my box,
turned and left the house. The cool Irish air wafted wonder-
fully into my box, carrying an invigorating tang of the sea.
It made me feel much better if only the dreadful pain would
go away! A ride on a bicycle was an absolutely new experi-
ence to me. A gentle breeze came through the air-holes and
there was a slight swaying which was not unpleasing, it
reminded me of lying on the high branches of a tree which
was swaying in the wind. A most curious creaking noise
puzzled me for some time. At first I thought that my box was
falling apart, then by concentrating carefully I decided that
the seat-thing upon which Sean sat needed oil. Soon we
came to rising ground. Sean's breath began to rasp in his
throat, the pedals moved slower and slower, eventually slow-
ing to a stop. Ah, Begob! he exclaimed, tis a heavy box
you have! Resting my box on the saddle yes, it DID
squeak! he trudged on up the hill, slowly pushing the
bicycle. Stopping, he unlatched a gate, and pushed the
bicycle through, there was the scrape of wood against metal,
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and the gate slammed shut behind us. What am I going in
to now? I wondered. The pleasant smell of flowers came to
my nostrils; I sniffed appreciatively.
And what have ye brought me, my son? asked an
elderly voice. I've brought Herself to you, Mother, replied
Sean proudly. Resting the machine against a wall, he lifted
my box, carefully wiped his feet and entered a building. With
a sigh of relief he sat down and told his mother the whole
story, so far as he knew it, about me. Fumbling with the box
lid he threw it back. For a moment there was silence. Then,
Ah! 'tis a wonderful creature she must have been in her
heyday. Look at her now, with her coat rough with neglect.
Look at her ribs showing. Ah! 'tis a cruel shame to treat
creatures so!
At last I was lifted out and set upon the floor. It is discon-
certing to suddenly lose one's sight. First, as I took my stag-
gering steps, I bumped into things. Sean muttered, Mother,
d'ye think we should YOU know! No, my son, no, these
are very intelligent cats, VERY intelligent cats indeed. You
will remember I told you I had seen them in England. No
no, give her time, she will manage. Sean turned to his
mother, Mother, I am going to take the box back and turn
it in to the Supervisor in the morning, you know. The old
woman bustled about, bringing food and water and most
necessary, leading me to a box of earth! Eventually Sean
departed with a promise to come in a few days time. The old
woman carefully locked the door and threw another lump
of peat on the fire, mumbling to herself all the time in what I
took to be the Irish language. To cats, of course, language
does not matter much because we converse and listen by
telepathy. Humans THINK in their own language and it is
sometimes a little confusing for a French Siamese cat to sort
out thought-pictures framed in some other language.
Soon we lay down to sleep, I in a box beside the fire, and
the old woman on a couch at the far side of the room. I was
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