Craft packs a punch
Written by Dr.Laxmi Iyer

Eight year old Craft rolled his eyes wondering what the heavens had in store for him. For the last one and half years, he had endured the agony of being displaced to second place in the Smith household. He hated it. No more did the Smiths watch his every move with astonishment and wonder. They had started treating him as if he didn't matter any more. All because of that little imp who had stepped into the house in the wee hours of that fateful morning. He had seen the creature, frail and helpless. Stephen, they had named him.

He had suffered all the bawling. His sleep had got terribly disturbed. He had put up with everything.

Now the creature had started walking. The next time he was sure that he would watch like a helpless spectator when the creature came and tweaked his whiskers or pulled his tail.

That day, he decided was going to be his last day ever. If ever the creature came close and did that, he was going to fight back. Give the creature good.

May be even vocally register his protest to the couple - tell them in no uncertain terms, that he was not going to take any more of this stuff.

Either they treat him like he was special or keep that bawling monster away from him - always bawling away like there was no tomorrow. Come to think of it, the Smiths actually loved his bawling. They would call one another excitedly.

Martha would call out, " Frederick come quickly! Just come and see what Stephen is upto! ". And Frederick would stop all his work - even his urgent telephone call and come running. Then the two of them would watch Stephen - open mouthed and wide eyed and reverentially gaze at him like as if he was heaven's chosen one.

Why! Craft reflected to himself, in his time he had sired dozens of kittens. Generations - in fact. Never had even a single kitten been as unruly as this little scamp. This scamp was just preposterous. He would bawl away just anytime he wanted to and like servile attendants, Martha and Frederick would come running.

His whiskers twitched and his fur stood on end as he shuddered at the thought. Sitting in the sun, grooming himself, he reflected upon the different ways in which human children learn and kittens learn. He had personally supervised and made sure that within a couple of months after birth, the kittens knew how to use the litterbox well.

Here was this kid still struggling with all that stuff. He had watched it with his own eyes. Never did they even admonish Stephen even once, the way they yelled at him, if ever he did any of the stuff that Stephen did.

One and half year old Stephen had just graduated to being able to take halting steps and do his gurgling cat walk.

The entire family would stand around watching him like as if he was a ramp super model or earth's eighth wonder.

They even took so many photographs of him. That was the ultimate.

Every time he would stroll around to pose right next to the bawling scamp, he would be unceremoniously pushed away - not just simply but with a sharp warning that he was never to stand so close to the bawling monster during photo sessions.

In fact, he had even heard, Frederick say to Martha, " Get Craft out of the way, will you? I just can't see Stephen. His huge fur coat is coming all over the lens - whichever way I move the camera".

Craft loved playing with his toys. One day, he decided, enough was enough. He was not going to let the scamp enjoy centre stage attention in all the photographs and get away with it.

Craft thought fast and made a quick plan. He knew Stephen's gurgling walk time. He went and slept in the middle of Stephen's walk path. There was a dark curtain which would fall all over covering him so only his tail would be immediately visible.

He knew this was going to do the trick. He held his breath and flatttend himself. Martha and Frederick would be busy getting their camcorder ready.

He was actually worried. What if things didn't happen as planned...but he had already made his plan and there was no time to be lost. It was now or never.

Then, when Stephen came around the corner....

Martha and Frederick were just in time to see Stephen stepping on the poor, helpless cat's tail and actually trying to fall on the innocent cat. Craft howled out in pain, a peculiar high pitched cry and limped.

They rushed to rescue the cat as they worriedly examined him for injuries. For the first time, Stephen heard a stern warning being issued to him.

Craft purred contentedly as he was cuddled and stroked and given his favourite biscuits.

For the first time, Stephen was actually forgotten.

Craft had finally succeeded in balancing the equation. Thank goodness for heavy curtains and dark lights.