The Flying Cats Are Back!

There have been a number of horrific news stories lately. The dear bones of Daniel Morcombe, who disappeared in 2003 just after Maeve died, have been found, confirming his murder. Yesterday a teenage pupil of my sister was found dead in her home, having been killed with an axe, possibly by her own mother who subsequently jumped off a bridge to her death. Both of these events juxtapose a vision of innocent emerging youth with unthinkably violent assault. It is the sort of news that sends you crazy, as if to accept the reality of the information is to actively participate in a society in which such a thing is thinkable. I remember lying on my bed at 18 severely traumatised by watching Leon Uris' Mila 18. I didn't want to accept the events as possible.

I've noticed that one of our responses to these stories as adults is to find some way in which the participants are different to ones-self. They are Asian, or indigenous, or filthy rich, or on the dole, or single parents, or ... We cut ourselves off from their pain or from that reality by identifying them as not us.

In the wake of the recent events, I have found the Flying Cat Ambulance Brigade returning in my mind after a long absence (their portal to Earth from Planet Creature was destroyed in the penultimate chapter of my novel, but thats another story). Who did I see but dear old dumpy Charlotte, a few pounds heavier but just as earnest, and her side kick Jex-with-the too-long-tail, tenderly lifting those dear, recovered bones of young Daniel and bringing them up to Planet Creature, where I have always perceived Daniel and Maeve, as Eva says, "doing good deeds [together] and getting up to mischief" ...

Today I saw the cats rush down, a flurry of feathers, and smother the young schoolgirl with their soft fur and whiskery, hypnotic kisses as the axe fell, so that she might pass on without remembered pain or awareness of betrayal.

And I also (I know some cannot, but I did) saw them sling a blanket under her mother, to soften her fall. I suspect with Charlotte and Jex this was not because they understood that all terrible acts have their origin in pain, but because they are simple animals, and cannot help responding to suffering.