For many years, the cat community has been branded with the derogatory title "thief cat." The reason is that they are so greedy, they can never turn away from milk, fish, or such food. This greed has been passed down from generation to generation. Therefore, they do not consider it as stealing or committing a criminal act.
This is just a recent story. One afternoon, Minu’s mother fried fish and covered the dish with a lid before going to sleep in the house. Where was the cat? The smell of fried fish reached its nose. Taking advantage of the opportunity, the cat goes to the back of the kitchen. Then, in one leap, it jumps through the open window and lands inside. In front, there is a pan with fish. The cat claws the lid off and grabs a greasy fish head in one jump, then leaps out of the window again. It jumps into the backyard, behind the elephant yam plant, and begins crunching the fish head, making noise while chewing.
Suddenly, a voice comes from behind— “This is why people call you a thief cat.”
Startled by the words, the cat jumps and says, “Who’s there?” It turns around and sees a goat, tied by the neck with a rope in the garden.
The goat says, "The moment you saw everyone taking an afternoon nap, your greedy instincts kicked in." Then, sounding irritated, it adds, "Your kind will never change!"
The cat, already annoyed, gets even angrier. "Shut up! Mind your own business instead of yapping so much. I just want to eat in peace, why don’t you let me?"
The goat replies, "Go ahead, eat! Who’s stopping you? But the food the mistress gives you isn’t little. And yet, you—"
Before the goat can finish, the cat interrupts, "Hey, enough with the wisdom! Try to understand one thing, the king of the jungle is the lion."
The goat says, "Yes, so what?"
The cat smirks and says, "Well, we are the lion’s cousins. If our daily menu doesn’t include a little fish or meat, our meals don’t feel complete. Got it?"
The goat sighs, "I get it. But we are all domesticated animals. We live under human care. And yet, you steal and sneak around in the very house of your caretakers?"
Putting the fish head at its feet and standing straight, the cat says, “We are domestic, but that doesn’t mean we think like you. Eating grass and leaves in the garden and living in subjugation is not possible for us. Even though we live under human protection, we still prefer a life of freedom.”
Calmly, the goat replies, “Fine. Let everyone live the way they want according to their convenience! What’s the harm? But stealing!”
The cat, irritated, says, “Oh, go away! You’re just like humans. Always talking about stealing! Isn’t there anything else to say? If stealing was a crime, our ancestors would have forbidden it.”
The goat, also irritated, says, “You’re a pair of earless creatures! The bad name of any animal society hurts us greatly, but it doesn’t seem to bother you.”
Suddenly, Minu’s mother screams from the kitchen, “Oh, no! The fried fish has all been taken by the thief cat! Oh! Minu, look at this wretched cat of yours! Now I’m going to chase it away!”
Hearing the scream, the cat grabs the half-eaten fish head again and jumps onto the garden fence. Then it falls from the fence onto the road and runs straight into the bushes. The goat laughs and rolls around, thinking to itself, look at the thief cat! These are the king’s cousins.
A few days later, one afternoon, Minu sits down to eat. After finishing, Minu tells her mother, “Mom, give the cat some food.” Then she washes her hands and goes to her room.
The cat sits at a distance, flicking its tail and meowing while making little noises with its tongue. It thinks to itself, Humans are so selfish! They have exclusive rights to all the good food! We, too, are living creatures of this world. Yet, we have no rights! We are forced to steal. And then, they give us all kinds of bad names! You all read books, yet you don’t know that stealing for food is part of our family tradition! Why do you slander us?
A little while later, Minu’s mother picks up the fish bones from everyone’s plates and mixes some leftover rice with it, placing it on the ground for the cat to eat. After a while, she notices that the food is still lying there, uneaten. She calls Minu.
“Minu, look at your cat’s stubbornness.” The cat was very dear to Minu, and so Minu had named it "Mini," a variation of her name.
Minu comes out of the house and says, “What’s this, Mini? It’s all left untouched! Why aren’t you eating?”
The cat, sulking, says, "No. I won’t eat fish bones anymore."
Minu’s mother mockingly says, "Oh wow! So now you won’t eat fish bones? A cat refusing fish bones! what, are you going to become a saint?"
With a heavy heart, the cat says, "Yes, that’s exactly what I’ll be. We've been hearing accusations all our lives, our ears are tired of it."
Minu is surprised by the cat’s words. She says, "What’s this, Mini? What are you even saying?"
The cat replies, "I’m telling the truth. Everyone calls us thieves. I can’t bear this insult anymore. I’m leaving."
Minu is even more shocked, "Leaving? What do you mean? Where will you go?"
The cat says, "To Vrindavan."
Now Minu lightly scolds the cat, "Don’t be so hot-headed. Come on, let’s go inside." She picks up the cat in her arms, lovingly strokes it, and takes it back inside.
But Minu’s words don’t comfort the cat. It has made up its mind, it will indeed become a renunciant. Within a week, without telling anyone, it leaves early one morning, holding a stick, with a tilak on its forehead, dressed in saffron clothes. It plans to sneak around a highway near a dhaba where many truck drivers stop for tea and snacks. There, it will listen in to find out which drivers are heading towards Uttar Pradesh or Delhi, and then it will sneak onto one of their trucks.
It was the monsoon season. To quickly get onto the road, the cat crossed the bamboo grove of the village elders, went through Sadhan Das’s banana plantation, and arrived at the western pond of the Haldars. From there, as it walked along the dirt road, suddenly, a catfish leaped out of the pond. Just like a car coming to a screeching halt when the brakes are pressed, the cat froze in place. It thought—
"This is all part of Lord Radhamadhav’s divine play. Perhaps He has sent this catfish to test whether I have truly attained detachment."
During the rains, fish often leap out of the pond onto the land. A bullfrog had been sitting in the nearby bushes, waiting for a fish to catch. Seeing the fish, it thumped forward eagerly, ready to pounce.
Seeing this, the cat got furious. Raising a stick, it said, "Do you see this stick? I’ll strike you down!"
Frightened, the frog hesitated and stepped back. The cat continued giving advice, "Don’t you know killing living beings is a great sin? You were born in the land of Mahaprabhu Nimai and Lord Buddha, yet you harbor such violence in your heart? Show some devotion! How will you answer for this when you go to the afterlife, hmm?"
The frog gathered some courage and said, "Oh, auntie. What are you even saying? Didn’t Swamiji say, one cannot practice religion on an empty stomach?"
In a thunderous voice, the cat shouted, "Shut up! I am wearing saffron robes now, and you dare teach me about Swamiji? I’ll hit you so hard you won’t even know which way is up!"
The frog, startled, stepped back a few more paces. Then, mustering some more courage, it said, "Auntie, you say that killing is a great sin. But I, too, am a living being. Then how can you say you’ll kill me?"
The cat found itself trapped by its own words. Its anger flared up even more. It growled, "What! You little, insignificant frog! How dare you speak back to me! Watch, I’ll teach you a lesson!"
Saying this, it charged toward the frog.
The frog, knowing it couldn’t outrun the cat, quickly pleaded, "Forgive me, auntie."
Then, with a loud splash, it leaped into the pond.
Even after driving the frog away, the cat’s once-pure thoughts began to be tainted with sinful temptations. Its instincts tugged at it.
It thought, "It has been a whole week of fasting. Not even a whiff of fish has entered my stomach. And now, right in front of me, such an opportunity…"
It couldn't decide what to do! Long-standing habits don’t go away so easily. Once it stepped into Vrindavan, it would have to forget about eating meat forever. But then, it had heard stories of many so-called saints who acted pious on the outside but had their own indulgences behind closed doors.
"They chant ‘Hari Hari’ in public but fear no one in private!"
So, just for today, let me indulge in the taste of fish one last time! Nothing too sinful about that.
But then again—"How can I, while seeking refuge in Lord Radhamadhav, engage in sinful acts?"
"Ah, whatever! If I think too much, my desire will remain unfulfilled."
It carefully looked around. No one was in sight.
Taking advantage of the moment, it licked its lips and crept slowly toward the catfish. Then, with one swift bite, it grabbed the fish.
Meanwhile, floating in the pond, the bullfrog had been watching everything. It thought, "Once the cat leaves, I will climb onto the land and catch that fish for myself."
But seeing the cat’s actions, it was completely shocked. It cried out, "Oh, auntie! After giving me a moral lesson, is this what you do?"
Caught red-handed, the cat felt immense shame. It quickly swallowed the catfish, rinsed its mouth thoroughly in the pond, and then, without looking back, walked straight toward Grand Tank Road, toward Vrindavan.