Mahadi had been noticing the scrawny cat visiting his house for some time. He despised that animal. A patch on its back was furless, perhaps scalded with hot water by an unkind person or someone repulsed by its appearance.
The cat’s face was marred by mange. Its patchy fur, once likely black and white, was now an indistinguishable dirty grey. Its bulging eyeballs, protruding from its bony head, made it even more unsightly.
During the day, the cat skulked beneath the houses, never daring to climb up. Only in the dead of night did it sneak inside. If the owners spotted it, they would chase and beat the cat until it was almost lifeless. Perhaps the cat understood how much its ugliness disgusted people.
Mahadi once saw the cat sleeping among the weeds near his house. He had the urge to beat it, even while it slept. But instead, he merely watched from afar, waiting for it to wake up.
Mahadi also thought of his pet cat, Si Puteh, who had gone missing some time ago. At first glance, the scrawny cat’s spotted fur reminded him of Si Puteh. He had been playful and pampered, cute and chubby. Mahadi had tied a red thread around Si Puteh’s neck to symbolically make him brave. He loved Si Puteh dearly, but one day, Si Puteh had not come home. Mahadi searched everywhere to no avail.
Days turned into months, and a year passed without Si Puteh’s return. Eventually, Si Puteh faded from Mahadi’s memory. He now had another cat named Chindai.
One day, the scrawny cat crept up to Mahadi’s house, searching for scraps of food. There was a serving of stewed fish uncovered on the table. Although the cat was starving, it did not touch the fish. Perhaps it remembered the training of its former master: “Food on a plate is not for a cat.” Perhaps the cat thought: No matter if one is ugly, so long as one is good.
Mahadi heard the cat jumping in the kitchen. What was he waiting for! He ran into the kitchen, but the scrawny cat quickly leapt out the window. Mahadi impulsively chased the cat, throwing sticks and stones at it.
As Mahadi pursued the cat, he was stopped by Wak Dolah, a gentle old man. Wak Dolah scolded Mahadi for behaving so unkindly.
“Even though it;s just an animal, we should look after it. Furthermore, if you kill that cat, it will die without sin.
But on the Day of Judgement, you will carry its fur one strand at a time, each as large as a coconut palm, all the way up to the sky?”
These words struck fear into Mahadi’s heart.
Chindai had just given birth to four kittens. Every night Mahadi would stay up to watch over them. A large black tomcat was stalking the kittens, and Mahadi was afraid that the kittens would fall prey to it. He wasn’t only worried about the tomcat; he was anxious about the scrawny cat too. If he could, he would have liked to kill both cats to protect the kittens from harm.
One night, as everyone was sound asleep, the black tomcat crept up to Mahadi’s house and killed two of the kittens. The next day, another kitten was killed. Mahadi was devastated. Only one kitten remained. He seethed with anger at the thought of the two stray cats.
Mahadi devised a way to trap those wicked cats. He set up a snare made from jute netting at the opening through which the cats probably entered. Then he tied the snare tightly to a piece of wood.
As Mahadi was making the trap, he saw the scrawny cat eating one of his sparrows. He instantly forgot what Wak Dolah had said to him the other day. Slowly he crept up to the cat and hit it as hard as he could, striking the cat’s leg. The poor cat ran away limping, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
A few nights passed and Mahadi’s trap was still empty.
The large tomcat did not come. At last, the scrawny cat came. As usual, it crept up to the house, looking for scraps of food.
Luck was not on the cat’s side – little did it know that Mahadi lay in wait behind the door. With all his strength, Mahadi swung at it with a piece of wood, but the cat scampered away through a hole and escaped. Then Mahadi heard a terrible cry.
Mahadi approached the trap he had set. His heart was pounding as he realised that his trap had caught its prey.
The scrawny animal was writhing as it hung from the net. It howled so pitifully, as if pleading for mercy from a human being of conscience to release it from that deadly snare.
Mahadi did not release it. He had gotten more than he bargained for, so he pummelled the cat to his heart’s content.
After a while, Mahadi grew tired and left. The agonised cry of the scrawny cat grew weaker and weaker, until it disappeared completely. Only its body hung stiffly from the snare.
In the middle of the night, the tomcat crept into the house. Like a stroke of lightning, it seized Mahadi’s last kitten. Mahadi woke up, but it was too late! The kitten had been killed like its three siblings.
The next day, Mahadi went to check his trap. With glee, he called out to his mother and father that his trap had caught its prey. But a shudder ran through his limbs when he saw the dead ca – —its tongue dangling, its mouth agape, its eyes wild with a vacant stare. Sheathing his hands with paper, Mahadi unknotted the netting and the cat’s corpse fell with a thud to the ground below the house.
Mahadi went down and dragged the corpse out. He grew pale, as if all his blood was draining from his body, when he caught sight of a tattered red thread amidst the frayed strings of the net. When he looked at it more closely, it became clear to Mahadi that the scrawny cat was none other than Si Puteh, his beloved lost pet.
Mahadi cried for his mother. She came without uttering a single word. They did not expect that Si Puteh would return after he had been missing for over a year. But he had returned in such a wretched state that they did not recognise him. He wasn’t like before – cute and chubby, adored by everyone.
When he was ugly, everyone despised him. Wherever he went, he was chased away and beaten, which worsened his condition. Such is the fate of a mangy cat.
Overcome with regret, Mahadi slowly carried the corpse of the scrawny cat. Stay here, Puteh, you died by my cruel hand, Mahadi said in his heart as he filled the pit with earth.
For a moment, he looked at the tembus tree that stood near the spot where he had buried the cat. Then, he gazed up at the sky and remembered Wak Dolah’s words.
He felt the weight of each strand of fur, as large as a coconut palm, as he carried it up all the way to the sky.
Then, he thought: What if I am punished just like the scrawny cat? Oh! He seemed to see the shadow of the dead cat’s head protruding out of the hole! As if it lay in wait to pounce at him. Mahadi ran back to the house in horror and dismay.
Excerpted with permission from ‘The Scrawny Cat’ in An Ordinary Tale About Women and Other Stories, by Fatimah Busu, translated from the Malay by Pauline Fan, Penguin South East Asia.
