My Path to Immortality with a Blade of Grass - Chapter 12

Everything was perfect.

Except that the neighbors’ cat was furious.

I had to admit she was a very beautiful cat. Her orange fur could make any bird stop and stare, and her big, bright eyes glowed in the dark.

So when she pinned me beneath her paws, I couldn’t help spending a few seconds admiring her beauty before I began to panic.

She might be exactly my type, but I was definitely on her menu!

Such a lovely kitty.

Why did she have to eat birds?

Someone help!

A bird was about to die here!

Luckily, before I became that orange cat’s dinner or midnight snack, the idiot happened to come home from school and rescued my parrot life from her claws.

The truth was out.

I wasn’t some good dad easing the family’s burden.

I was a naughty parrot stealing mice and cockroaches from a cat.

I lowered my head in shame.

But, to my utter surprise, I did end up easing the family’s burden.

When the neighbors learned that I’d been stealing the gifts their cat brought them, they were practically moved to tears.

They clasped my idiot’s hands and promised that if I would keep stealing every gift their cat brought home, he was sincerely invited to have dinner at their house every day from then on.

Overwhelmed by their enthusiastic invitation, the idiot agreed.

The neighbors’ little girl, about his age, peered out from behind her parents with a sweet smile.

Only the cat and I looked utterly baffled.

The human world was so complicated!

After that, I dutifully stole mice and cockroaches from the cat every day.

And every day, she diligently tried to eat me.

I even found a part-time job as a greeter at the little shop downstairs.

When a customer came in, I’d shout, “Welcome!”

Before they left after paying, I’d call, “Thank you! Come again!”

If they left without buying anything, I turned around and showed them my backside.

In time, everyone nearby knew the shop had a parrot who gave paying customers special treatment.

The shop made an arrangement with my idiot’s parents: every evening, when it was busy, I’d go downstairs to work. In return, the shop supplied all our household staples free of charge—fuel, rice, oil, salt, sauces, vinegar, tea, the lot.

What an extraordinary parrot I was.

My only regret was that I still hadn’t seen any of the mice or cockroaches I’d stolen appear on the dinner table.

Could the shy humans be too embarrassed to eat my gifts in front of me?

So I decided to leave the gifts beside their pillows or on their bedside tables every day.

That way, they’d see them as soon as they opened their eyes, and could eat them right there in their own rooms!

Every morning, I heard the family’s joyful cries rising one after another.

Ah, I was such a considerate parrot.

Time passed slowly. The cat and I remained in a steady routine of “I steal my things; she tries to kill me.”

But we were no longer sworn enemies.

It felt a little more like flirting.

I stopped stealing every last one of her gifts. Instead, I liked to stand nearby and watch her gobble up her mice and cockroaches, then flatten herself into a cat pancake and snore contentedly in the sun.

She no longer seemed so determined to exterminate me, either. Even when she pinned me down, she kept her sharp claws tucked away. She stroked my bright feathers with her soft paw pads, then stuck out her pink tongue and licked me from head to tail until I was dripping wet.

Later, she even cuddled me while we napped on the shop counter. Sometimes she carried me on her head while we watched the shop’s nightly television dramas together, utterly absorbed.

But the real turning point came one evening.

A group of nasty children cornered the cat while she was catching mice in the yard. They threw little stones at her and tried to pull out her fur.

Her owner—the little girl about my idiot’s age—shouted and rushed over, pushing the ringleader away.

Not to be outdone, my owner joined the fight. He stood in front of the girl and the cat, bravely facing the nasty children’s punches and kicks and fighting back as hard as he could.

Unfortunately, they were outnumbered.

Soon both of them were pinned to the ground.

I happened to see it just as I was heading to work at the shop.

I swooped down from the sky, shouting for adults to help. At the same time, I picked up little stones, flew back up, and dropped them on the nasty children’s heads.

At the critical moment, the adults drawn by my calls hurried over and stopped them.

I looked at the shaken cat.

She was gazing up at me.

In that moment, her eyes were filled with gratitude and admiration.

That evening, the shop’s television was showing My Fair Princess.

Normally, as a dashing adult male parrot, I disdained such soppy dramas full of romance.

But that day, perched on the cat’s warm, soft fur, I listened with her, spellbound, as Ziwei and Erkang argued.

“You watched the snow and the stars and the moon together. You talked about poetry and songs and the philosophy of life. I’ve never watched the snow and the stars and the moon with you, or talked about poetry and songs and the philosophy of life…”

The cat’s eyes accidentally met mine.

We both looked away at once.

I stole a glance at her and distinctly saw a sweet little smile curl at the corners of her furry mouth.

By the god of birds.

I thought I’d fallen in love.

I’d fallen in love with a cat.

There was no snow that night. But neither of us went home.

We stayed in the yard together, looking at the stars and the moon. I sang her every love song I could think of, and she meowed along now and then.

I spread my wings, carefully chose my most magnificent feather, and gave it to her.

She rolled over, showed me her belly, and meowed so sweetly that my heart melted.

Later, a little girl who’d protected a cat fell in love with the boy next door who’d come to her rescue.

A cat fell in love with the parrot who’d come to hers.

The boy I’d raised on stolen mice and cockroaches grew up alongside the girl who’d invited him over for dinner while hiding behind her parents.

The parrot who no longer feared cats and the cat who no longer ate birds slowly grew old together.

When I could barely fly anymore, and the cat could barely walk, my boy went down on one knee before the cat’s girl and held out a glittering ring.

The girl was too choked up to speak. Trembling, she could only nod and nod.

The cat and I were the only witnesses.

I was a parrot.

A parrot in love with a cat.

Today, the human I loved so deeply had finally found his happiness.