Liza and the Open Door
The night is dark and frightening… A heavy heart, and she doesnt understand why this is happening to her. Liza sits quietly beneath the shadow of a tree in the garden. The gusty wind cuts through her fur, and her tears freeze into tiny icicles in the autumn chill. She presses her frozen paws to her belly and remembers…
How warm it was beside her mother, curled up in a soft pile of her brothers and sisters. Her mother would groom them one by one, purring a gentle lullaby. It was safe there… But then her legs grew stronger, and she longed to escape that warm cocoon, eager to explore the bright rooms of the house.
One by one, her siblings were taken away, and finally, it was Lizas turn. A man and a woman spoke sweetly to her, cuddled her, even kissed her. But Liza wasnt interestedshe wanted to run! They brought her to a new home, and she raced through every room, investigating every hidden corner.
Everyone adored the little kitten. She had so many toysmice, balls, feather wands. The most thrilling game was chasing the elusive red dot from the laser pointer, always just out of reach.
But Liza grew into a dignified lady, and playtime lost its charm. Only the jingle of the laser pointers chain could still send her darting after that phantom dot. In the evenings, she sat in the kitchen, helping her mistress cook. In the mornings, she saw her master off to work. Liza was happy!
Then it all ended… The owners packed suitcases and bags. Liza leaped over them, delighted by the new game. But they were grim-faced, avoiding her eyes. A sour-faced woman with thin, perpetually pursed lips arrived to watch the flat.
From their hushed conversation, Liza gathered this was a relative who would look after herand the flatwhile her beloved owners were away. She sat by the door for hours, listening for footsteps in the hall, but the ones she longed for never came.
The flat grew cold and uneasy. Liza was often forgotten at mealtimes, too shy to beg. She sat patiently by her empty bowl, waiting for the woman to remember her. Only when she nearly tripped over the cat would the woman grudgingly fill the unwashed dish with food.
Now Liza was forbidden from the sofa (covered in fur!) and the windowsill (the flowers!). She spent her days in the hallway, curled up on a sandy doormat. The warmth of human touch became a memorythe woman recoiled from her. Liza still groomed herself meticulously, keeping her coat smooth and shining, but it made no difference.
One day, the woman shrieked at finding fur on her suede boots, waving a kitchen towel threateningly. Liza flattened herself against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut. She had never been shouted at before. And still, her owners didnt return…
Then, spotting the door ajar, she slipped out. She glanced back once before bolting downstairs, leaving her home behind.
Now she is alone in the cold, exposed and vulnerable. Theres nowhere to hide, and somewhere nearby, a pack of dogs roams. For a moment, she regrets leaving…
But she couldnt stay in that flat with that tight-lipped woman. And perhaps that door had been left open for a reason.
Inside, the woman stuffs Lizas toys into a bin bag, then tosses in the remaining food and the bowls.
Hearing distant barking, Liza stands and trudges on. She doesnt know where shes going, or what will happen. But one thing is certainshell never be happy again…
Liza wanders the city, putting distance between herself and home. She freezes at the sound of drunken footsteps or the scent of a dog, pressing low to the ground until the danger passes.
By chance, she finds shelter near the gates of a bakery, where the guards dont shoo her away. The workers notice the shy, well-groomed cat, but she keeps her distance. No matter how they tempt her with treats, she refuses to eat. If shed wanted to live, she wouldve stayed in the flat, where at least she was fed. But thirst is harder to ignore, and Liza drinks from filthy puddles, her belly aching.
Her ribs show through her fur now, her once-plump cheeks hollow. Only her glossy coat and wide, innocent eyes draw sympathy from the bakery workers. They even try to catch her, force-feeding her with a fishing net, but she darts away, vanishing into the streets again.
Her paws lead her back, as if by instinct. The building door is open…
She stares into the dark stairwell before finally stepping inside. The climb to the second floor takes forever. And there it isthe firmly shut door of her old flat. She doesnt know why shes come back. Maybe just to see it one last time?
Behind the door, voices rise in anger. The owners have returned to find her gone, and the wife confronts her sister-in-law, who shrugs. Ran off, didnt she? What, was I supposed to babysit a cat?
Ran off? the mistress snaps. Then where are her toys? Her bowls?
You should be thanking me for watching your flatand your flea-ridden cat! Tell her, Kevin!
But her brother only glares, restraining his furious wife. From the flat opposite, a neighbour gasps.
Liza, love! Look at you, all skin and bones! Hang on, lets get you inside. She rings the bell.
The door flies open, and the tight-lipped woman storms out. Im never setting foot here again!
Then the mistress appearsand Liza, with a choked cry, flings herself at her, claws scrabbling up her trousers.
You came back… the mistress whispers, tears brimming.
Liza rubs against her so fiercely her fur sheds in clouds. That night, curled between her beloved owners, she realises she was wrong…
She is happy again.
