"Crash!" "Tinkle!" The tree comes crashing down in a cascade of silver icicles and royal purple bows. Together we look innocently at the glittery carnage. I hear a faint miaow as the words "monster" and "OUT!" echo through the hallway, as I reflect that, after all, I only climbed up to look at the pretty gold angel.
Age eight. "I think I forgot my English homework, Tee," I say, the hated gym bag swinging from my wrist. "I think I'd better go back home and get it." Ting-Tang stops and looks back at me contemptuously before leaping ahead, following the well-worn path over garden walls and through neighbours' hedges to the small primary school round the corner. I sign and start trudging after him. Physical exertion is less of an ordeal when one has four legs, and it is not often, after all, that one is forced to wear bottle green gym knickers when one has claws.
Age ten. The car, although breaking to a halt, thumped into the furry body with a sickening crunch of tiny bones. I stare at the clump of white fur lying on the pavement, and think of every time I dodged traffic, darting in and out of the suburban school-run mummies in my rush to get home, to school, to the ice cream van, and I start to cry.
Age twelve. I stare down at the tiny balls of fluff barrelling around the blanket-lined cardboard box like furry snooker balls, ignoring the adults. Grown up words like "chequebook" and "inoculations" float by unheeded. I start to stand as my mother turns and finally notices the inch-long rend in my standard issue pullover, a memento of a past playground war, and uses yet more grown up words: "nonretractable claws," "new uniform." I look down at the tiny cream-colour head cradled in my arms, and smile.
Commentary.
My article is aimed at a very specific target audience, namely adult Siamese cat owners, or any animal lover with an interest in Siamese cats. The article is intended as a basically very light and humorous look at pet ownership and the companionship that develops with a pet, seen from a child's perspective. The piece is aimed at an audience most likely comprised of adults (and, given the cost and higher level of knowledge and care required by a Siamese as opposed to a regular 'moggy,' it is reasonable to assume a fair percentage of such owners are relatively mature and sophisticated), so the vocabulary and writing style is a little more refined than if the article was being written for a younger, for example teenage, audience. For example the use of the pronoun 'one' rather than "your" or "his" in the fourth paragraph ("when one has claws") could be considered slightly pretentious by a different audience. At the same time, the piece is intended to act as a look through the eyes of a child, so the writing style is not so mature as to hinder this goal. The use of the first person narrative also helps accomplish this.
The piece is comprised of five paragraphs, each indicated to have taken place at a different age, showing how the relationship and bond between my cat and myself developed over the years. The overrunning theme is that I would use the cat as a scapegoat when I did something wrong, indicated in the first and second paragraphs. "He is always the loser in our private game of 'grab the soft, fleshy thing in front of you'" shows that while the cat was technically in the wrong, he was probably justified in clawing at me because I grabbed him. The phase "private game" shows that no one else is aware of this. In the second, the sentence, "I only climbed up to look at the pretty gold angel" is repeated, once from Ting-Tang's point of view and once from mine, first to lead the reader into believing it was he who committed the 'crime" and then to reveal it was actually mine, for which he was blamed. The alliteration of "flickering fairy", the onomatopoeia of "crash" and tinkle" and the use of nouns to describe the rich colours of the ornaments (for example crimson rather than just red) are used to evoke the scene. The third paragraph reverses the situation somewhat, as I am trying to get away with something (namely finding an excuse to not attend gym class, my goal indicated by the use of the adjective "hated" to describe my gym bag") and it is the cat who, in essence, wins. I also used the nickname 'Tee' here to suggest the closeness of the relationship. The third paragraph is the shortest and basically serves to move forward the 'plot' (as is) in explaining as simply as possible that the cat has died. The personal recollection, and particularly the use of the pattern of three in "to get home, to school, to the ice cream van" emphasises my feelings of guilt without being too sad. The last paragraph describes how I buy a new cat, using the simile "like furry snooker balls" to show we are again on light-hearted grounds, the sadness of the last section over. I describe how the tear in my sweater is "a memento of a past playground war," showing it is old damage, and in demonstrating my mother's response I show that she has blamed the cat ("nonretractable claws"), but that I do not care ("grown up words [...] float by unheeded"), thus completing the cycle and ending the piece on a happy, upbeat note.
