A Cat.1 Emergency

A David Sands Competition story by Jackie O'Sullivan

Nov 03, 2025

An entry in The Sands of Time Writing Competition

A Cat.1 Emergency by Jackie O’Sullivan

Chapter 1, Life does not always go to plan.

The first time it happened, I just thought it was a hallucination.

The kind you get when you have been partaking of the quality sort of medications you get to go home with after major surgery. You know, the really good stuff that induces wobbliness, weakness and sleeping at all hours because for some reason your eyes weigh 20Kg each.

When it happened again a few days later, I was less sure that it was the reason and began to ponder why I might have even imagined seeing such a thing happen. After all, I had never imagined or dreamt anything like that before, so why now? It turns out the surgery did have a part to play in it, though, and how I had worked my life around needing a major operation and some care afterwards had definitely contributed to the problem.

Humanity is a bit slow on the uptake, really. We regularly fail to either see or understand what is right in front of us. In fact, far more often than you would think, it turns out. We have not been alone for millennia. They have lived among us since before humanity was able to record its progress through history. We once even worshipped them as Gods. Over time there have been dawnings or enlightenment about the truth. In the Western world’s medieval period, suspicions were raised in many places about their true nature, but the mud that was thrown really did not stick, except maybe as a suspicion of all black ones, and so their secret purpose was maintained. I have, however, been let into that secret because humanity has really messed things up this time, and the secret help and support we did not know was working to our benefit has been short-circuited and disrupted. Now those who nurtured us and then let us rule ourselves while secretly keeping us on the straight and narrow really need our help to save us from ourselves. Again.

But I am really jumping ahead here and need to backtrack a little. I have two cats, never really been a dog person, and cats seem to like me, more of that later, but that saying about cats choosing who they trust is apparently true. I also live alone and have done so for some time. Going back to the medieval period, I suspect I may have been tarred with a witchy type of brush, especially as I am a nurse by trade. Yeah, single woman who does healing and lives with cats. Nothing suspicious there at all, really. The surgery that set all this off was a bit unexpected. A series of unfortunate events leading to some weird test results that set off a hunt and found a reason that turned life upside down for a while. The sort of thing that happens to about 1000 people a day, apparently. The living alone thing turns out to be a bit of a problem after operations, apparently, the expectation is you will not be on your own for a while, so my life choice threw some metal tools into machinery and created panic in the extended family. So, rather suddenly, my two cats, who went out around the back lanes and seemed not to go much further, were shipped off to stay with a niece, where they spent 7 weeks imprisoned in a room with a view of the outside world through a window only. Said niece has her own cat, who is not friendly to others. Her home also backs onto a small stream, a railway line and has a busy urban road at the front. Not the kind of rural idyll my pair are used to at all, so yeah, safety first, a large indoor, upstairs cat den it was then. They got regular cuddles and apparently fought for a place on my niece’s lap when she sat in the rocking chair in the room. I am not in any way jealous! Nope, I really am not. Much. They also seriously let me know I was no longer their best friend when I visited them.

When we all got safely back home, the pair of them were outside and marking their area as fast as they could. They treated me with disdain for 24 hours and then kept coming to check I was still in the living room for the day after that. And then they both disappeared. For days.

The older one came back first after 4 nights away. She sauntered in and announced loudly that she was back and needed to be fed immediately. No please or thanks, just a lot of racket until the food bowl was suitably full and she tucked in with relish. There then followed another week of anxiety, wondering where on earth the younger one had got to. I was increasing my exercise level and walked the village and the local lanes every day with no sign of her. I propped the cat flap open at night, having left the back door open until late each night, risking visits from the brother of the older cat who lived next door and thought it was his right to come and help himself to any food he could access. This was the time I spotted my older cat sitting on the wall of the back yard next to a large fluffy tabby cat, who I had seen several times before. The tabby always ran away as soon as he spotted me, but this time, some intense communication seemed to be happening before they touched noses and went their separate ways. I really thought they were having quite an intense discussion about something, but that just could not possibly be right at all. Could It?

That week, some new medications were started. A known side effect is listed as vivid, realistic dreams as well as all the more common things like tummy upsets and rashes and the like. Two days after starting this I woke from a very weird dream that involved being chased by a large skeletal rabbit waving a flag. This meant a trip downstairs as the bathroom in this old Victorian era cottage is downstairs at the back of the house, not terribly convenient but nowhere for it to be moved upstairs. While there, I thought I heard a cat meowing, so I went to investigate. My younger cat was back, very thin and unable to jump over the gate to get into the yard. She whizzed straight indoors as soon as that gate was open, yowling her joy before eating so fast I am surprised there was no mess to clear up.

Apart from being thin she was unharmed and once fed settled to sleep at the foot of my bed. She and my other cat did not usually spend much time together but the older one had been very anxious at her absence for the previous 9 days, kept going and sitting on the back wall often and then coming in looking sad and lonely. She had also lost a little weight because she was not eating as much as usual.

Life settled down to what was now a new normal while I dealt with all this rubbish medication. The cats , Razi who is the older one, and Squeaky, her daughter, a mere 10 months younger, settled back into standard cat behaviour. Hiding in impossibly tiny spaces, appearing at lightning speed as soon as I opened the fridge door. deigning now and again to come and use my lap as a convenient place to snooze, causing extreme bladder distress on occasions, as moving causes some serious glaring and occasionally clawing. Yep, cats really like you to know who is the boss in the house; you are merely there to operate a tin opener. If they trust you they really let you know, especially by using you as a convenient snoozing spot the second you sit down, or snuggling up in your pile of ironing so that you proudly wear their hair on every item. Contented purrs and chirrups of chat are meant to be reward enough for being their chosen slave.

And then it happened again.

In the middle of the night I spotted Razi having a conversation again with the fluffy tabby cat and her super chunky brother from next door as they all sat on the back yard wall. Her brother is known as Big Nose due to his markings, a huge white nose in an otherwise black face. He also happens to be Squeaky’s dad I think, as well as her uncle. I would find him stalking haughtily down the stairs in my house, stopping to give me a “what?” stare as if he were a teenager being asked to put the bins out or clean his bedroom. Magnetic cat flaps appear to be able to allow the neighbours in if they tailgate close enough!

So, there they were sitting on the wall having a deep and meaningful discussion. I watched them through the kitchen window with the light off for a full minute before they became aware of me. They then instantly swiped at each other’s noses and yowled and hissed and floofed up tails to immense bottlebrush proportions. Big Nose and Tabby disappeared, and Razi just stalked back through the cat flap as though nothing unusual could possibly have happened. I have no bathroom privacy from my cats; they want to come and have their ears scratched, as apparently that is a really convenient time for them to seek my approval. So while Razi was there, I directly asked her what on earth was going on on the wall, as it looked like a really serious chat she had been having.

And then she answered me.

Really.

It is a good job I was already sitting down.

Chapter 2. Lies to children have grains of truth in them.

“Well spotted,” she said, “We thought you were beginning to notice more than you should do.”

My immediate response was not a useful one, really. Well apart from the perspective of my bladder. I just stared at her. She sat and stared back. Cat stares are pretty defiant, they really challenge the power balance and can hold them for eyewatering eons of time. My brain was really struggling here. It was the middle of the night. I had woken from one of those weird, vivid dreams again. My cat was not actually talking to me because that just isn’t real at all is it?

She sat there contentedly just licking a paw after examining it carefully. “We were wondering if you could maybe be a bit of an ally and help us out a little” . Another useful response from me, more staring and then just “oh”. I completed what I had started and then headed to put on the kettle because a brew fixes so many things in life.

Razi followed me and patiently waited until I was comfy on the sofa with the warm mug in hand. She sat next to me and waited again, watching intently for a good 5 minutes before speaking again. This time I was less fazed by the weirdness of it all.

My CAT WAS TALKING TO ME.

In English.

In full sentences that made absolute sense. Yep, I was staring with my mouth open. I shut it and thought carefully before answering her.

“How come you can talk but have waited until now?”

“Well, that is a question needing a long and detailed response,” said Razi, “I can tell you it all, but it may take a while”. Since she had my full attention and a return to sleep was not happening any time soon, I just nodded and let her begin.

Cats have been around humans for a really long time. They are considered to be domesticated but far less so than the dogs descended from wolves, the sheep we now need to shear because they no longer shed their own fleeces and the cows that can produce enormous quantities of milk, way more than any calf would ever need. It is thought that cats were small mammals that declared their usefulness in protecting grain stores from attack by rodents when man first started to stay in one place, collecting and storing foods to last over winter, when little could be gathered to provide nutrition. Razi said there is a grain of truth in this, no pun intended.

They arrived here by accident from another galaxy, and she was not sure how far far away that may have been, though. Some things just get lost in the mists of time. There were multiple landings in different parts of the world, which apparently accounts for the many variants of Felidae across the globe. Felis catus were the ones who found themselves able to help and nurture a promising hominid species native to the planet. The larger cat species that became leopards, lions, tigers and such landed in more isolated areas and had less interaction, so they became genetically more isolated and resolved into their current forms over time. In fact, where they came from, the smaller Felis Cats were the thinkers and scholars, the Felidae were larger and more keen on hunting and fighting, so were the natural soldier elements of their planet. They made themselves really at home in wide open spaces where they could hunt in packs and be the apex predators, or in jungles where they could be silent, sleek bringers of fear and death.

Those who allied themselves to the hominids helped the developing small bipedal mammals to organise themselves effectively, to improve their communication, to develop and progress and survive. We were basically groomed by cats as if we were kittens. The hominids and then humans treated the cats well; they did, in effect, worship them as Gods. That saying also has a grain of truth; we were in awe of the aliens from another planet who nurtured and developed us into the thriving communities that were able to develop themselves and use the resources of the planet to become the dominant species who spread across the globe.

As human awareness and communication grew, the cats knew they would have to be less dominant. They were onto a good thing; they were valued and catered for by their former students. However, they still congregated and shared information between communities and influenced how humanity managed themselves where they could. Cats have been part of the lives of many famed and notable people. We all know about the Egyptians’ regard for them, but in Asia, there were well-regarded populations in Japanese palaces, and the Chinese Emperors had many cats in their closed palace networks. These cats would elect members to be the favoured ones of the most senior humans; they would appear to sleep in important meetings and in the bedrooms of the elite. Then, when possible, the information and knowledge they had gleaned would be shared at gatherings of cats and distributed around their communities.

The same applied in Europe, a well-known cat in a high place was Micette, who was the favoured animal of Pope Leo XII. The cat would be present, hidden in his long papal robes, at all meetings. That kitty would have heard so much that needed to be shared during the period of change after the Napoleonic wars. Feral cats are also a really useful means of this information being spread, as humans do not notice them vanishing for weeks at a time, as they distribute intelligence far and wide to other communities. Until about 150 years ago, freedom was the right of almost all cats.

At this point I remember thinking that the Aristocats film suddenly made a lot more sense and wondered if the Sherman brothers may at some point have experienced what I was having now, a bizarre chat with a Cat. I mean who is actually going to believe this outside of a cartoon film?

Chapter 3: Catastrophe after catastrophe

So that was the basics, cats are actually aliens who made the Earth their home. And like the mice in The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, they still have an element of control over what happens here, even though the apparently super-brainy humans have failed to notice. Did Douglas Adams own a Cat?

There have been a host of attempts at outing catkind over the years, and cats have helped humanity in many ways over time, too, with lots of their efforts being documented as plucky, lovely furballs being super special in the subsequent writings about them. In various periods of human history, cats have had a very bad name, though, especially black ones, being linked with witchcraft multiple times in more than one place. Witchfinders may have suspected the true nature of catkind and tried to discredit them and turn humanity against them. They could not outright say they thought cats were not of this world, but they could use religious ideology to make them appear demonic and evil. Genghis Khan was a supreme cat hater who may have suspected more than was good for him. The Chinese had a reverence for cats akin to that of the Egyptians. All cities had resident populations, and Genghis used that to great effect to destroy a city he besieged. He demanded a ransom of many thousands of cats, when the ransom was delivered he had fireworks and combustible materials strapped to them before setting some alight and letting all the cats flee back into the city to destroy it by fire. Wow! That was a gut-churner,

Razi was reflectively quiet for a while after sharing that part of the tale. I went and made another cuppa and found her a much-needed treat from the usually well-secured tin. Isn’t it amazing how cats work out how to get into the places they know yummy things are stashed? They may not have opposable thumbs, but they absolutely use every tool they do have to get what they want.

In the 1790s in France, Jerome Laland, a renowned astronomer, tried to reveal the planetary origin of cats by suggesting the name Felis for a planet in what is now the constellation of Hydra. His proposal was poorly received and did not gain notice and attention, much to the relief of catkind, according to Razi. A little earlier, the very well-loved cats of Marie Antoinette had failed to impart to her the extent of the danger she was in. They had apparently revealed to her that her family should flee, and steps were taken to arrange passage to northern America. While her cats were loaded aboard the ship, sadly, the rest of the family did not make it, and we know what happened next. Those posh French kitties are apparently the ancestors of those super fluffy huge ones we now call Maine Coons. That was news to me. A factoid tinged with sadness though.

As part of their intelligence gathering networks, cats have, over time, found homes with the powerful and mighty and also with the common man, especially in war zones. Catherine the Great, as Empress of Russia, had a host of cats in her palace, all well placed to hear and distribute information across a vast nation with many troubles, although not always as successfully as they would like. The huge distances and dreadful weather were a big problem a lot of the time. Something an ailurophobic dictator of the 20th century would have been wise to take note of.

There is a suspicion that Napoleon may have suspected that cats were sharing information during his attempts to create a mega United States of Europe. He was once found in his room at night, waving a sword at a cat in his bedroom, trying to skewer it. I wonder what secrets it had gathered to spread far and wide using the kitty networking systems? Cats got some revenge on him later at Elba. In an attempt to reduce the rat population of the island, many cats were introduced there as part of a trick organised by someone who heard old Boney hated them. Oops! Not long after, another cat called Tibbles, yes, I know, really got himself a bad name by causing the extinction of the Stephens Island wren when his owner took him there as part of his rotation of duty as the lighthouse keeper. Another oops moment, I think.

Tales of cats helping troops during wartime get more common as we get towards more recent history. Not that surprising, as Louis Wain painted them in such cute pictures that they became ever popular pets in Victorian England and were seen less as an irritation of mere workaday animals keeping pests down on farms and smallholdings. Apparently, he also had hints of the cat's true nature that he tried to tell the world about, which did him no good at all. He spent a very large chunk of his adult life as a guest in mental institutions. Razi thought that was a real shame, as he was a very kind man and truly loved the pet he and his wife had called Peter. There was the tale of Tom, a cat taken to heart by some troops during the Crimean War in an awful winter, the Russian weather having its way again. Tom found a store of supplies that the starving men truly needed. Potentially also ensuring his own survival because needs must. Razi then went off at a tangent, suddenly remembering another cat she had been told of, finding food to help someone. During the reign of King Richard 3rd, Sir Henry Wyatt was detained at the Tower of London as a prisoner. He was slowly starving as he had no one to provide him with decent supplies, when a cat wandered into his cell. This cat became known as Sir Henry’s caterer. The cat would bring him plump pigeons it had caught, which the tower guards would cook for Sir Henry’s meal. The caterer was paid a share of the birds. There have been resident cats at The Tower for a very long time; they must have gathered a lot of information over the centuries. Who knows what secret information about things that happened there could become known if catkind felt the need to share it.

More recently, in the Second World War and later, two cats became very well known. Oscar began his career on the German ship Bismarck. When that was sunk, he had to change sides and become an intelligence agent for the British instead, first on HMS Cossack, then on HMS Legion and finally on HMS Ark Royal, a real step up the ladder. Not sure his presence was great for the sailors on Cossack or Legion, though, since both those ships were sunk as well. Maybe German cats knew he was there and wanted him out of the game in case he was a Double Agent. Then shortly after the war, during the Yangtse incident, a ship’s cat called Simon was on board HMS Amethyst. He became a huge friend to the crew when they were stuck behind enemy lines with limited supplies. He killed rats that threatened the food supplies and would lie with the wounded purring furiously at them to encourage them to recover. He is the only cat to have been awarded the Dickin Medal for his efforts. Sadly, though, he was returned to a home in the UK, which meant being quarantined for 6 months away from everyone he knew because of the rabies laws. He pined away and died as he could not cope with the level of restriction on his freedom. Not being able to fulfil what he saw as his role to spread information and help humanity was more than he could bear. So sad. Cats know of him because of his medal, effectively the only feline Victoria Cross awarded.

At the top of the knowledge tree, though, would be the cats beloved of monarchs, Presidents And Prime Ministers. President Lincoln had Dixie and Tabby, and he shared many secrets with them during his tenure. It is believed that one of them tried to warn him not to go to Ford’s theatre, but was not listened to, maybe he thought he was hallucinating. After all, who would believe a talking cat? Downing Street has known many cats; there was an official Chief Mouser there for many years; however, that resident was chased away by the cat brought there by Winston Churchill. He had two very special cats to help him during his role as Prime Minister, Jock and Nelson. Razi says they were party to many secrets and attentively listened to rehearsals of speeches all the time. He was heard to say he preferred the company of Nelson to that of many humans, which Razi found very gratifying.

A final sad note she shared was of the cat heroine Felicette. She was, though, unable to share with the world any information she gained from her 15 minutes as a Catronaut in October 1963. She was kept at the space centre for further study, which eventually included euthanising her to study her brain. How sad. Cats have not left the planet since, who knows, maybe one day they will get back to Felis or whatever we know it as by then?

Chapter 4; Impending Category 1 emergencies.

So that all took quite a few hours to relate and involved multiple changes of position, cuppas, loo trips and snacks along the way. All very interesting, I am sure you are thinking, which is kind of where I was too, so eventually had to ask Razi what exactly she needed in the way of my help if cats were actually secretly running the world and had been for all recorded history.

It turns out the cats think we are all well on the way to hell in a handcart now. Their intelligence networks have been messed up a lot by the rise of catios and indoor cats so that information cannot be effectively shared any more. The feral networks are weak and diseased, with many becoming increasingly food-focused to the point of major notoriety, like Chonkus Maximus in Crete, who used to be a valuable and well-respected part of a network and can now barely move from under his tree. Even worse, a number of major high-end information sites are now out of access as the residents are ailurophobes. Current incumbents are more focused on personal image and power as they have not been calmed by the presence of chirruping fluffiness in the form of a resident cat with needs. It is really messing up the information sharing and general calming that is needed in some parts of the world that feature regularly on the news bulletins.

On top of that, humanity has messed up the atmosphere over time, which is exaggerating cyclical shifts that have happened many times over millennia. Our development of information technology as a means of rapidly sharing information is making us less thoughtful and more in need of instant gratification.

Each individual now seems more focused on their own needs and less aware of the needs of entire communities, which is how civilisations were fostered by catkind so long ago. There is an expectation of “somebody” doing “something” rather than everybody doing anything to help find solutions to problems. The cats feel like they have lost control because they are imprisoned and denied access to information that they can spread and have those in the right places used to influence the humans in their network area. They now need humanity to take full control of their destiny, to work together to create settled communities that really care for everyone within them.

Just be aware if you own a cat, If you see it intensely focussing on another cat when it thinks you are not watching it may be sharing vital intelligence, if it disappears for a while it is possibly off on a mission to spread vital news to other areas of their influence.

And if your cat starts to ask for your help to save the world, you are probably not hallucinating.

A Cat.1 Emergency

A David Sands Competition story by Jackie O'Sullivan

A Cat.1 Emergency by Jackie O’Sullivan

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