STRAYS

A lot of stray cats roam the city of Boston, but none come close to a particular stray. A stray who went by the name Simba. He was special compared to others on the streets, unlike most of them, Simba once had a home. Which ultimately made him different…

“Is everyone here? Simba is about to tell us stories!” A cat yelled, gathering the rest of the cluster.

It was nighttime and like every night a certain group of cats would gather around for stories about Simba’s lost home. Simba wasn’t always a stray. Which is why there’s a lot he’s learned, seen, and experienced that other strays haven’t. Not to mention, the reason he has a name. Things a stray, born and raised on the streets, would never understand. For as long as he can remember, Simba lived in a house with humans. He was raised in a completely different lifestyle.

As Simba was alone, he found a new family. He taught them everything he knew about sticking together. He picked that up from the humans. It was important, yet Simba unfortunately had to learn that the hard way. He gave the cluster a family and would gather them around to tell them stories on a daily basis. Like a bedtime story. In return, they taught him how to depend on himself on the streets. Finding food, shelter, defending himself, and being careful when around strangers; cats and humans. Simba was less skeptical of humans as he once lived with three of them, but he had to learn that it was different on the streets. Being a cat with no owner, people saw Simba differently then they would when he was with his old family.

Simba lived amongst six other strays who all formed his cluster. A couple, Max and Loolie, their daughter, Layla, and Milo, Garfield, and Leo.

“Milo?” Simba called out, walking to the top of a few boxes near a trash can.

“Everyone’s here and eager as always!” Milo replied.

“Let’s get started then… Any stories in particular you wanna hear? I’ve gone through so many by now, you’ve probably heard all of them.” Simba addressed the cluster.

“Come on, Simba? You don’t have any new stories for us?” Leo asked. Simba could hear the disappointment in his purr. He was the youngest cat of the cluster and he didn’t like to disappoint him. He wishes to find him a home, one with humans who’d see him the way he does. Innocent, adorable, and a good companion. However, it isn’t so easy when you’re a stray.

“We’ve been doing this every night for about a year, guys. I warned you this day would come. Sorry, Leo.”

“Tell us about the food!” Garfield yelled in excitement. “What was it called again?”

“Ahhhh, Fancy Feast. The canned metal box of goodness and pure pleasure. They had different types of cans too. Chicken, tuna, turkey… It is every cat’s dream. The best meal this world has to offer. Garfield… You would’ve loved it.” Simba replied.

“Better than half the Tilapia we scored yesterday?” Loolie asked.

“Oh yeah, that was good.” Garfield added, forgetting about the Fancy Feast.

“A lot better.” Simba replied.

“Wow,” Garfield slowly whispered.

“I found a can once, but all I got was a whiff of the scent the Fancy Feast left behind… It was amazing.” Garfield said.

“How about the story of how we met, Simba? I really like that story.” Layla said amidst the crowd.

“The story of how we met, huh? What do you guys think? I know you guys like to hear about my old home, but at least this one’s new, right? Would you like to hear that one?” Simba had a way with telling stories. His owners had a young girl who Simba always accompanied. He’d stay in her room all night, which is where and when he attained his skills for storytelling. Her father would tell her bedtime stories everyday before bed. Sometimes he’d read, sometimes he’d make them up. Even though he was telling those stories to his daughter, Simba was always there to listen. He enjoyed them just as much as she did.

“Yes! A new story!” Leo let out.

“Sure!” Milo yelled, and the rest of the cluster followed through.

Simba was all alone in the city for a week. It can be rough being a house cat and suddenly finding yourself out on the streets all alone. He was dirty, starving, and he always sought out help from humans. Not all of them are kind though, some can be really mean. Horrendous even. He tried to befriend other strays, but it never worked out for him. He either saw cats fighting and ran away in fear or tried to approach a cat who was eating and then got attacked. Simba was struggling without his family. He wasn’t accepted by humans, cats, couldn’t get a proper meal, barely had some water, and above all that Simba was homesick.

On a cold night about a year ago, Simba was shivering. He was starving and cold and he was staring at a gray cat with black eyes. She was eating a plate of leftovers by a restaurant in the middle of the night. Simba learned his lesson to never approach a stray while they were eating. He was too hungry to look away though, the cat saw how hungry Simba was. She was strangely kind enough to offer Simba some of her food. Unable to eat for days, Simba devoured the leftovers without saying a word. He then looked up into the cat’s eyes and said, “Thank you… I, uh, I really needed that. What’s your name?”

“Leo, what do you think Layla said when I asked her? What would you have said?” Simba put a pause on the story, interacting with the young one.

“Leo!” He impulsively replied.

“No, what would you have said if you’ve never met me?” Simba asked again. Leo didn’t fully fathom the hypothetical scenario Simba put him in.

“Uhm…Leo?” Leo reluctantly replied.

“Well, sure. Okay.” Simba said, giving up on Leo.

“What the hell’s a name?” Layla yelled out. “That’s what I said.”

Simba started explaining what a name was and told her his. She still didn’t really get it. When he told the stray he once had owners, she understood the predicament he was in. She asked him questions he couldn’t answer. He didn’t want to show her how useless he was on the streets, so he changed the subject back to names. “Everyone deserves a name. What should I say when I want to call out for you or if there were other cats around us and I was addressing you? You have to have a name. It just makes things easier I guess.”

“Well, we’re not all lucky enough to have owners who’d give us names. When someone wants to talk to me they just approach me and start talking. Simple as that.” She paused for a moment. “Besides, who would give me a name anyway, you?”

“Of course, not. The way many strays see it, we’re ‘free’. Although I gotta say, living in a house with humans was a lot nicer. However, to get back to my point… You can give yourself a name. Something you like.” Simba suggested.

The cat liked the idea and she started thinking of a name. She couldn’t quite get it though. Went blank in mere seconds. So, they both decided to take a walk through the city. They listened to humans calling out names, saw some tags, names being yelled out of strange screens in stores. About an hour later, they heard a song coming out of a bar. The cat stopped and said, “I got it!”

“Layla… From now on, I will be called Layla.”

“Layla.” Simba slowly repeated. “That’s really beautiful.”

The story was coming to an end, but was then extended by Leo’s interruption. “Is that when you formed our cluster, Simba?” He asked. As Leo was the youngest, he was the last to join the cluster. Probably the only stray who was kind of born into names. Max and Loolie found him on his own when he was only nine months old. They took him in and sort of became his parents. He always admired Simba, which is why Simba always enjoys interacting with him through his stories.

“Pretty much, yeah. It’s during the same week Max and Loolie got their names too.” Simba explained.

Going on with the story, he extended it to when he was introduced to Layla’s parents. They were both old and have been through a lot compared to most cats. Her father was all black with short hair and her mother was puffy and white. They didn’t have names when Simba was introduced to them, but two days later they each came up with their own. Strays at their age always lose hope of finding a home with humans. They never really dwell over it though. They’ve seen a lot, but they never saw a stray make it into a house. To them, it was never a possibility. However, Simba’s stories helped them dream. Helped them picture and visualize what it’s like to have a home. His company helped them get a feeling of what it’s like to have a family.

They enjoyed their time with Simba very much. They learned a lot from him and in return taught him a lot too. Simba never knew his parents, but Max and Loolie kind of filled that position for him. In the end, being the elders of the group, they were kind of like a father and mother to the entire cluster. However, it did start with Simba. He was the one to teach them the meaning of truly having each others’ backs.

A week later, they bumped into Milo and Garfield. The two of them knew each other long before the cluster was formed, before Simba became a stray even. They were best friends and they’ve been together for two years, which is a lot considering the fact that they’re strays. It’s mostly every cat for themselves or a random cluster of cats gathered at a particular area for their own personal gain. Usually it’s free food from a kind old lady. Milo and Garfield were different though, they hated being alone. Being with one another made life easier on them, they became like brothers. Inseparable. Two cats in conjunction, gathering food, having good times, and making the streets a better place for the both of them. It can be bleak when you’re on your own, even if you’ve been a stray your whole life.

When Simba first saw them, they were arguing about something like they usually do. “You guys remember what you were fighting over?” Simba asked as he told the story. He didn’t know he’d rile them up into another argument. Nevertheless, he was disappointed he didn’t see it coming.

“I remember.” Milo said, looking angry.

“No you don’t.” Garfield answered, in a matter of seconds.

“We were fighting over a ball of yarn that I found.”

“That was last week.” Garfield responded.

“Leftover fish?” Milo hesitantly said.

“That was yesterday.”

“Oh my god, guys… It doesn’t matter!” Layla yelled out, but they ignored her.

“I bet you don’t remember either.” Milo accused Garfield.

“I don’t. You’re the one who said you did, but like every time… You’re wrong.”

“Aha! So you’re admitting it could’ve been the ball of yarn!” Milo yelled.

“No, I’m saying it could’ve been anything!” Garfield corrected Milo.

“Shut it you two! Seriously.” Max said in frustration. “Let Simba continue the story.”

“See what you did, Milo?” Garfield said, throwing away all the blame towards Milo.

“ME?!” Milo replied, feeling offended.

“Alright, cool it. It’s my bad, I started it. Layla is right, it doesn’t matter what you two were fighting over… Now back to our story.” Simba was able to get them to stop, he usually does. Especially when he’s telling a story. When he sets the mood again, they drop the argument, and let the tales go on.

Regardless of what it was all about, the two of them were fighting. Things got carried away that time and paws were thrown at one another. Their arguments can get out of hand sometimes, especially when Garfield is feeling hungry. That was probably the case back then and although Milo was wrong about the leftover fish, it could’ve been food that caused the fight. As soon as claws sprung out, Simba intervened. He was reluctant at first, but for some reason, he didn’t want to see any of them get hurt. Luckily that day, Simba was able to gather a lot of food alongside Layla, Max, and Loolie. He was able to offer them some, which ultimately calmed them down. Got them to stop fighting.

In the 730 days they’ve been together, they never came across such generous cats. As they began to feast, they each introduced themselves. The two cats looked at each other and back at the group with blank faces. They were extremely confused and didn’t know how to respond. One of them whispered to the other, “do they think they’re human? What the heck’s going on here?” Which eventually led to Simba telling them about names. Like he did before with Layla, Max, and Loolie.

It didn’t take them much to think of one for themselves. As we sat by talking about our day, one of them said, “Milo.”

“What?” Simba asked.

“That’s gonna be my name… Milo. I remembered I saw a dog named Milo once, so I’ll be named Milo too.”

“That’s a dumb name,” said the cat.

“Oh, so all of a sudden you’re an expert on names?” Milo angrily replied.

The group laughed and said they liked the name. They all looked at the only nameless cat among the newly formed cluster. “How about you?” Loolie asked.

“Garfield, but I don’t want to say why.”

“Why not?” Simba asked.

“Milo will make fun of me if I do, so I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”

“Milo won’t say a word, come on, Garfield. We’re all curious to know more about your name.” Max said, assuring Garfield that no one would laugh or tease him.

“Okay, then. I saw this cat on this weird, flashing screen once. All the humans stopped to watch him and each time they did, they’d smile… They loved him very much. His name was Garfield and as I sat, hidden near the sidewalk, I dreamt of having owners that loved me, just like everyone loved Garfield… there, you happy now?”

“Well, Garfield. We’re obviously not humans, but we are a family… And after tonight, you and Milo are considered a part of our family. Our cluster.” Simba said.

Then a strange noise came out of Milo. It was like he was trying to contain something. All of a sudden, he burst into laughter, “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“See, I told you he’d make fun of me!” Garfield said, looking like he was fed up.

“Garfield wants the humies to like him!” Milo said in a snarky manner.

Simba put a stop to their nonsense. It was the second time he’d stop a fight between them and they’ve been in the cluster for less than twenty four hours. After that, they all carried on with having a last meal before they called it a night. It wasn’t smart to leave food near them while they slept and so the feast had to go.

“Wow, you guys really came a long way since then, huh?” Simba said.

“They sure did. I mean they’re still annoyingly and constantly arguing, but it’s become a lot less often than it was when we first met.” Layla said.

“It was Milo, he was a lot meaner back then.”

“No I wasn’t.”

“Okay! Back to the story!” Loolie yelled out, interrupting the fight.

“I think we’ve reached the end of it… Not long after that, you and Max brought in the cutest member of our cluster, little Leo over here.”

Leo giggled over Simba’s last comment. “Are you gonna tell us one final story, Simba?”

“I don’t know, what do you guys wanna hear?” Simba enthusiastically asked.

“Well, you’re not gonna like this but there is a story not everyone here has heard before.” Max let out.

Milo and Garfield felt offended and almost started a fuss again, but Simba replied before they could begin. “What’s that?” He asked.

“The story of how you became one of us. How you became a stray.” It was a story only Max, Loolie, and Layla got to hear.

Since it was a traumatizing event for Simba, he never really enjoyed telling that story. Story-time at night was always something he did to teach the cluster how groups of humans stick together and help one another. It was also to give them a glimmer of hope for a better life. One where they wouldn’t have to worry about where they’d sleep or what they’d eat. Simba gave them a loving family where they felt safe and felt like they could rely on one another, but safe shelter and food wasn’t something any of them could provide on the streets. Their skills helped them manage and Simba learned as much as he could from the strays, but sometimes things can be a bit scarce.

Layla climbed up the boxes and sat by Simba’s side. “Go ahead,” she whispered. “Tell them your story.”

“I feel a little ambushed here, I’m not gonna lie, but yeah. Sure, why not?” Simba took a long pause before he started telling his story. “My family took me for a day out at the park. We’d set a blanket on the grass to sit. They eat, feed me, play some games and we’d all return home. As we got ready to leave something grabbed my attention. You know us cats, we get easily distracted. A small, blue, bouncy ball speeded by me and was jumping around everywhere. My eyes were locked in on the ball and I ran right after it. I was an idiot cause by the time I got to it, I was lost. I dropped the ball… it didn’t seem that important anymore because I couldn’t find my way back. I didn’t eat for three days, and barely had any water. I trusted the wrong humans, wrong cats, and for a week I was going through hell. I didn’t know how I’d survive.”

The cats of the cluster all felt sorry for Simba. They were silent, respecting him and what he’s been through. Simba looked at Layla and concluded his story on a happy note, “but then I met Layla and she helped turn things around. Introduced me to Max and Loolie, taught me everything I know about being a stray, and helped me gather all of you here tonight. Telling stories, gathering feasts, arguing, laughing, and being together. Caring for one another. Persevering.”

“I bet your family looked all over for you.” Leo let out.

“Thanks, Leo.” Simba said, appreciating his comment.

“Looks like Leo’s not only the cutest cat, but the smartest too!” Layla said.

Simba felt a bit down as he began telling the rest of the cluster his story for the first time. Be that as it may, by the end of the story Simba felt differently. It was the first time he’d conclude the story on a happy note. The first time he realized that things did in fact turn around for him. He didn’t find his way back home, but he found a new one. They admired his stories about life with humans and he carried on with telling them all about it. Again and again, giving them that glimmer of hope that everyone needs in order to dream. Teaching them the true meaning behind loving and being loved.