I still remember reading an English novel, nearly 50 years ago, about a pet dog who gets lost and how its master launches a huge search operation until he finds it six months later in a far away place, being used to pull a sledge on ice with some other dogs.

‘Thambu’ was my pet, a tom cat and a sturdy one at that. I found him about six years ago loitering on a by-road from Kalutara to my home in the interior. His colour - a beautiful dull yellow - was so identical with that of the road that a van driver racing along didn’t see him until he came very close to the cat and was only barely able to avoid running over him.

‘He will soon be run over...’ The strange driver quipped looking through the window at me, with a sympathetic smile also on his face.

I felt sorry for the creature who was very likely to be crushed under a vehicle wheel. There was no one around on that lonely stretch of road, so without having to inquire about the ownership of the kitten I picked it up and resumed my fast walk towards home.

My wife, however, was not very much inclined to adopt the kitten as she was in doubt about its sex. Thinking that it was a female she suggested abandoning it to which I had to accede - reluctantly. So we put it on the road in front of our house where not many vehicles ran and went on our weekly trip to town to buy our provisions.

On our way back, the kitten was not to be seen, yet a little later two little boys brought it back saying that they had taken it home but had to bring it back as their mother didn’t want to keep it. What was usual was what happened then. As I opened the gate to get the car inside, the kitten ran back from where he was left by the boys, and crept into the somewhat deep groove on which the gate ran. The wail he raised, being inside it as if pleading ‘please take me in... I don’t want to go anywhere else...’ made our hearts melt.

That was how Thambu became almost a member of our household - my wife being a history teacher christening it as ‘Thambu’ after the historical place where Vijaya, the first king of Lanka landed - ‘Thambapanni’ known for its copper coloured sand.

Thambu proved to be a very playful kitten who liked to spend the whole day running after us and leaping up to clutch at our hands being careful not to scratch them. He also succeeded in gradually appropriating the whole house and its contents for himself using cushions as his beds and lounging on piles of sarees inside the almirah like a little lion. He made a valiant effort to break into our bedroom too and to take a nice nap at a corner of the bed. Caught red handed doing this we had to convince him it was not his territory and had to keep the door closed all the time. This did not deter him from trying as much as possible to get in, often succeeding in at least gaining entrance to show us it was also his own domain.

He often tried to imitate whatever we did and was trying to get at the phone after observing keenly what we did with it. So one fine day when we were lounging in the verandah we suddenly heard the phone emitting some sounds and a message being conveyed ‘sorry, the number you dialled is not in use’. Hurrying to the phone wondering who might be using it except the two of us being the only inhabitants in the house, we were flabbergasted to see Thambu thumping on the whole keyboard at leisure!

In some daring exploits, showing his keen power of observation, Thambu was able to save our lives from snakes. In one of these, I was stepping into the bathroom early one morning when I saw Thambu sitting at the centre and intensely eying the little rack on which we kept our tooth brushes, etc. While I normally pick up my brush, without looking at it, the kitten’s unusual action made me take a quick look at the rack and lo and behold! What I saw curling round the rack was a hideous serpent with its head at the ready to attack the hand that goes there! I stroked Thambu’s shiny head with the sudden sense of gratitude that sprang up in me and quickly arranged for the snake to be captured. Since I eschewed killing I took it into a bottle which we later released in a jungle while on an outing.

The second one was found inside a room where it was creeping under a cupboard. Thambu having noticed it in time immediately called our attention to it with his unusual behaviour trying to get the creature from under the cupboard. This one was also caught and disposed of in the same manner.

The most spectacular capture of another snake happened in our garden when one day we were seated in the compound. Thambu suddenly emerged from nowhere clutching a snake between his jaws and brought it along to show us another of his heroic acts. He was being so clever as to avoid being stung by the creature that he had caught it right behind its neck so that the snake could hardly turn for any such attempt. The sight was such a horrible one. being unable to attack his captor, the snake was coiling round the cat’s neck while Thambu was now trying to loosen the coil with his front paws. However, by the time I stroked Thambu’s head and tried to release the snake it was already dead and had to be buried at the end of the garden.

Thambu liked to ride in the car very much and every time we got into it he used to try to get in too. One day my wife obliged by taking it onto her lap and we took it to the town. We left it in the car with just a little opening of the window to let the air in. When we were returning with bags of goods we saw at a distance a pack of dogs jumping about barking at the window of the car while the people around were greatly amused by the sight.

The dogs receded as we got near and we could then see what had created the scene with those canine creatures. Thambu was standing on the rear seat and beating the glass with various histrionics as if the was challenging his adversaries to fight. Only when we appeared did he subside and settled on the seat getting ready for the return journey.

Another interesting highlight of Thambu’s character was that every evening when we were worshipping before the shrine of the Buddha at home he came running there and sat meekly at our feet until we finished, as if he too was taking part in it. This may be because he liked the melodious chanting of gaathas or it had something to do with a habit in his previous birth.

*

Thambu suddenly fell ill soon after his sixth year and lost appetite completely. We tried everything possible with the help of the vet, but nothing could bring back his lost health. The vet even recommended an expensive imported food which too was totally refused.

One day when we got in a trishaw - I sometimes preferred the bus to go to Colombo - Thambu came to the gate and started uttering a long wail. It was like the wail he raised as a tiny kitten at the same place pleading with us to take him in. We were sad but never thought that it was destined to be his last day in our home.

When we returned he was not to be seen on his usual armchair and for two days thereafter there was no sign of him. When the information reached us that a cat was lying by the roadside little away from our home. I hurried there, but could not see a sign of him.

Thus Thambu left us with only few photo of him taken with my camera and a long series of memories of a good and faithful companion. I could not get away from the compunction that while he saved my life twice, I could not pay him back by saving his. Though we know that he will never come back again, his soothing figure will never stop flashing upon my mind every time I reach for my tooth brush in the morning or press the buttons on the phone to make a call. With his departure he has also left us with a message related to rearing pets. Why the humans do not develop some effective medications which animals can take with relish and without having to ram it down their throats. However we only could console ourselves by remembering the common belief among people that cats leave home when they sense their death. Even elephants do, I have heard.