The Ship's Cat

Summer, 1949

     There was a war going on outside.

     Simon may have only been a cat, but he understood the danger. Every ship's cat knew about war, but Simon had learned first hand. The worst part about it though, was that his ship had never been meant to fight.

     It was the Chinese Civil War which raged outside, but Simon's masters were British. Their ship, HMS Amethyst, was on it's way to Nanking to take over guarding the British Embassy. But now they were stuck under fire in the Yangtze river. One artillery shell had already tore through the captain's quarters, with Simon inside.

     Simon thought back to that incident as he stalked through the ship's galley. He wasn't fully healed yet. He could still feel the pain where the medic had dug the shrapnel out of his leg, and where the heat of the impact had burned his back and face. He couldn't rest though, he had his own war to fight. His duty was to kill any rats he saw, and it was a duty he excelled at. He'd been able to keep them all at bay, except for a vicious one the crew had taken to calling "Mao Tse-tung".

     Simon stoped and sniffed, he smelled something. Sure enough, as Simon turned a corner he saw a large, mangy rat hunched near the wall.

     "That's him!" thought Simon "That's Mao!"

     Mao couldn't run, Simon had him cornered, but when Simon pounced Mao reared up and bit his neck. His sharp teeth clung to Simon as he tried to shake free. Mao scratched at the cat's face with his claws, disrupting his focus. But Simon could not be easily beat. He rolled on to his back, and the motion dislodged Mao. Then he wrapped his front paws around Mao and put his back legs in between Mao and his stomach. He started to kick at Mao with his claws. If he held on long enough he could cut Mao in half, but Mao squirmed with all his weight and the fight became a wrestling match.

     They went on like that for awhile until Simon, racked with pain, finally got his teeth around Mao's neck. He bit down hard and held a firm grip as the once intimidating rat squeaked and squirmed in his grasp. The squeaks grew quieter and quieter till they stopped completely. Mao Tse-tung was dead.

* * *

     "Well I'll be damned!" a crewmate exclaimed, "The pussycat's done it!"

     The whole crew had gathered to celebrate the news. The Maintenance Officer held Simon up as the saliors took their turns giving congratulatory head pets and chin scratches. Simon was happy to just do his duty, but he still purred at the attention. The Captian, Lieutenant Commander John Kerans, then called for silence.

     "Men, our Simon has gone above and beyond a ship cat's call of duty" said the Captain. "Not only has he raised our morale and protected our food, but he's continued to do so while injured. This is why I've decided to promote him to the rank of Able Seaman."

     "Able Seaman, Captain?" a crewmate asked, "Wouldn't it be Able Seacat?" The crewmen all laughed. The Captian smiled.

     "You're right sailor. Able Seacat it is!"

THE END.