I am Kalu. I like the name and respond to it. It is not an abbreviation of my Ge name like the cricketer’s name, but it is entirely due to my colour - jet black, not a single grey hair no need for hair dyes as some age conscious ladies use and a few fastidious man too. Like a chatty pot turned upside down on the head! Such a joke to me as I know that at their age, they cannot possibly have black hair like mine without a streak of grey.

To come to may genealogy, I am of the zoological classification Felis domesticus, a direct descendent of the Black Panther - the most graceful and handsome of the cat family, A close cousin of the Cheetah which is reputed to be the fastest animal in the world. So you better look out - I am as fierce as the panther at times, but most often I am as docile as the domestic cat, my feline ferocity being pushed to the background. He and I can see clearly in the dark but not when it is pitch black, which is seldom, like in a closed room.

I am amused at what you humans have imagined - that seeing a black cat brings bad luck! Nonsense!! My home folks see me daily and they seldom suffer from ill luck. They don’t believe in this sort of folklore any way. The wicked witch on a broomstick is also supposed to have a black cat for a pet - as if witches have pets! More nonsense!!

The English language is replete with instances where it has used me for its own descriptive purposes. The Cat’s eye is precious stone from Ceylon and a hard glass road divided at night; a Cat wash is a perfunctory face wash; Cat o’ nine tails was a whip of knotted cords formerly used for serious offences; a Cat is a spiteful woman; a Cat’s paw is a person used as a tool; Cat and dog - very quarrelsome; Cat burglar is one who enters a house by climbing to an upper storey; Cat calls are derisive shouts expressing disapproval; Cat fish is a species that has whiskers; Cat’s whiskers is one who has a pompous opinion of oneself; Cat nap is a short light sleep in harnsi putuwa or bed and that a cat has nine lives! I have seen plenty of dogs run over and pulverized on the roads by vehicles, but have you ever seen a cat similarly injured or killed? I haven’t remember, we have nine lives!

Let me tell you my origin. I was born in the office of the Wildlife and Nature Protection Society. Very soon my mother took me and my siblings out to the garden to play. One day, my master who had come to the WNPS for a meeting, came out to the garden before the meeting started and saw my mother lying on the ground, feeding her progeny. I caught his eye as all my brothers and sister were like my mother, common strays, while I was quite unique - pure black.

My Master returned the following morning and asked the watcher whose cats we were "No owner. They are stray cats." "Then please may I have one?" "Not one, take the lot! At least they will be well fed in your home and you will attain merit." He thanked the watcher, picked me up gingerly and took me in the palm of his hand to the car. His driver Thilakarathna laughed and said "That’s not way to carry a cat. You lift a cat by the skin on its neck like the mother cat does. (This was news to me.) Like rabbits are lifted only by their ears."

My Master proudly showed me to his wife. "Here’s an unusual gift for you." That was my entree to their home. My home! Instinct told me "Beware dogs" but I soon realized to my immense relief that there were no dogs in this home. Lucky me. I was given as much warm milk as I could stomach and then I looked around to investigate the environment into which I was introduced, my new home.

Much to my relief and delight, I found there were three well tended gardens (Master’s hobby) inside the house, all three of which I could use for my ‘Big job.’ Latter, when I sniffed around and dug a small hole in the soft earth, the entire household gathered to watch the performance. I sat over the hole but it did not suit, so I covered it up and found another place to dig a hole. This seemed OK, so I sat and enlightened myself. I then covered up my doings with earth, sniffed and found it didn’t smell. So I joyfully romped back to the house to hear my Lady observing "How different from a puppy which messes all over at random." Master added "cats and kittens are scrupulously clean. They need no bathing and brushing as they preen themselves relentlessly from top to toe and have no odour about them." I smiled to myself.

When the family daughter arrived a few days later, she was utterly thrilled with me and cuddled me on her lap, where I relaxed languorously with my eyes closed, much to her delight.

All this was long ago. I am now about four months old and almost full grown. I believe Master and Lady breathed a sigh of relief when the house boy, Peter examined my anatomy discreetly and announced for all to hear that I was a Tom cat; not a Tabby. That meant that I would not start producing litter after litter of kittens to care for and give away to kind homes.

From a mere three inches long, I am now seven inches with a tail as long. No wonder I grew fast, for I had the best of food. Warm milk, a tin of imported cat food which an admiring visitor brought as a gift, fish, meat and the general ingredient, rice. Since my preferred food seemed to be fish, and since we didn’t have fresh fish daily, Master suggested that I should have canned Jack Mackerel or what the domestic called Salmon. Ah! Right up my street. As a change of diet I get chicken or beef sandwich paste spread on bread. Although less appetizing, I relish that too.

When I arrived at my new home, I was given a basket with an old sheet on which to sleep in the pantry. As soon as I was able to decide for myself, I preferred the cushioned setee in the upstair lounge - so luxurious, ever so comfortable and that’s where I sleep now. In response to lady’s protests, master enjoined "Let him sleep there rather than on our beds." Thanks master! He was fascinated with my eyes - green. The English say "Green with envy" but I had no envy. Green eyes on black background make an attractive combination, even for you humans,

I understand there was a sizeable rat population when I arrived. But from the time I started mewing, the rats have thought the better of it and have decamped from the pantry cupboards etc. which were hitherto, their undisputed territory. "Now———no rats!" I heard the maid Podi Manike reflect. Which reminds me, a few weeks back, she saw a rat in an old cupboard and thinking it would be an admirable reward for me, she carried me and held me up to see it. The rat was petrified like a carved rock, at the sight of me. I couldn’t care less and took no notice at all. "Quite unorthodox behaviour for a cat!" I heard them affirm. Podi Manike amplified "May Poosa sill poosek!" (This cat is a religious cat!)

In my spare time, and there is an abundance of it, I roam all over the house peering like Sherlock Holmes into every dusty nook and dark cranny to get my bearings. Although I walk on the narrow concrete pergola like a tight rope walker, I missed my step once and crashed like a plane, fifteen feet into our neighbour’s garden. No broken bones as I crash landed on my feet. In fact, they say that when you throw a cat in the air, invariably it lands on its four feet! Lady had heard the thud like a ton of bricks and since I was missing, correctly adduced what the noise was and sent Peter across to retrieve me like the Good Samaritan. Sure enough, there I was looking totally guilty and rather bashful about my misadventure, like a naughty boy caught stealing sweets. But I live to learn and I am more circumspect when I tread uncertain ground, like land mine clearing guys. I now walk the beams expertly with renewed aplomb, like a true stunt man.

We cats cannot hide our emotions and I am no exception. Whenever I feel grateful and contented, I cannot help but purr and purring is no artificial performance but a self activated and subconscious act which is a genuine gesture of pleasure among us cats. Quite unlike the barking of dogs.

I must always be careful at night. Once, I was romping about following Lady and in the dark, she couldn’t differentiate me from the black shadows and she clumsily tripped over me and nearly fell, but forthwith regained her balance. Master observed this and like a know all, cautioned her, "Be more careful. You could easily stumble over Kalu, fall and break a bone." Perish the thought.

When Peter and Podi Manike start dishing out Master’s and Lady’s meals, it is the cue for me and I start my usual act of looking up pleadingly at them and mewing, inducing them to say rather cynically, "There goes the dinner gong!" I don’t mind their rude sarcasm. I have developed an immunity to it. But it had the desired effect. Master instructed Peter and Podi Manike always to give me my meals before Master’s and Lady’s. Thank you Master. How thoughtful of you.

Proverbially, I should, as of old, be playing with the ball of wool left unattended in the old lady’s knitting basket. But my Lady has no knitting basket so I find my own toys to play with. Chief among them are cockroaches and beetles. When I paw them, they recoil and when they get entangled in my paw, I automatically jump for joy. I repeat game until they get tired of reacting. Then it is time I made a crunchy, savoury meal of them. Delicious!

Unlike my pet aversion, puppies, I don’t know how to smile, but Master and Lady are aware of this disability among all animals of the feline genus such as lions, tigers, panthers, leopards, cheetahs etc. which know only to snarl and which is the only expression of any emotion among them. Humourless morons!

Master noticed an iridescent blue and purple honey sucker with its well adapted curved beak and his less attractive mate, flying in and out of the Asparagus creeper in our garden. So did I. Master found that G. M. Henry, the famous ornithologist, has to the best of his knowledge, failed to include this species in his ‘Birds of Ceylon.’ On closer investigation, he found they were building their nest there. He observed them with his binoculars and followed the construction technology which they adopted. Very correct. Very scientific. When their house was ready, the hen laid three eggs and was sitting on them to hatch. I was impatient. I silently climbed the Asparagus creeper and in one fell swoop took the mother bird in one hand and the eggs in the other. The pair of honey suckers gave up in disgust and deep sorrow and went elsewhere. Master, an avid Nature lover, never forgave me for this misdemeanour.

In my wanderings about the house, I have discovered that out of master’s hobbies, one is rearing fish in two ponds in the house, one at ground level and the other on the first floor. In these ponds, he rears multi-coloured ornamental fish which to me are more than fascinating they are positively tantalizing! How much more so than the dried sprats with which Podi Manike tries to tempt me. When I show disinterest, she comments "Moo Kalu Suddhek!" (This is a black European!) Nonchalantly, I allow the jibe to pass.

Tempted beyond resistance, I jumped up on to the concrete edge of the tank and looked down at the red Sword tails, the black Mollies, the Neon guppies and the plump, cumbersome Gold fish, clumsily struggling from side to side in their swimming action. My mouth was watering like a waterfall. All my attention was on the tasty morsels in the water, which I could have caught with one swipe of my greedy paw. But at the critical moment, who should make an appearance like a Dracula but Master. He sized up the situation in a flash and stamping his foot hard on the ground, he shouted at me like thunder, "No!" and involuntarily, I was thrown back, but steadfastly, I stood my ground like Horatius defending the bridge in old Rome. When he took two determined steps towards me, I decided that discretion is the better part of valour and beat a hasty retreat up the stairs to my safe haven, my setee, to await consequences; but there were none. When Master came up, he merely glared hard at me, but I took the signal — never to go fishing again!

So life goes on, each day bringing new experiences, but no painful calamities. I firmly believe that God, in His humane compassion, looks after drunkards, small children and junior animals such as me. Dear God, I thank you God.

An autobiography dictated by Kalu and written by his Master Sepala Ilangakoon