Catnam

“Have you ever heard about Catnam?” Chase, her younger cousin, suddenly asked while the two sat on the couch.

Tilting her head to the side, Serena wracked her brain but came up empty. “No, I’ve never heard of it. What is it?” Serena inquired.

“Oh, it’s really serious. I’m a veteran from Catnam and was tangled up in the war for seven years. I just wanted to sleep,” Chase informed her matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, while playing with Serena’s cat, Miya.

“Is that so? So, Catnam was a war?”

Chase nodded seriously. Taking a deep breath, he prepared for the retelling of the tragedy. “It started long, long ago…”

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Milk was abundant. Meals consisted of bountiful feasts of chicken nuggets. Catnip aplenty. We had it good; life was great. Granted, that was before the war. It all went downhill from there—the battles were never ending. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years. Within a blink of an eye seven years had been consumed by this grisly war. It was tragic. Gone were the carefree, peaceful days where our bellies were happy and ourselves content. Nothing was the same ever again.

We were foolish at the start, writing it off as insignificant occurrences. Granted, the changes seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things, how could we ever know what it would ultimately lead to? We were blind and ignorant to the horrors that would unfold, blissfully unaware, and it led to the demise of so many wonderful comrades.

Catpurrnicus heaved a heavy sigh from all the long years of turmoil as his weary body shuddered. The war had aged him drastically, leaving him feeling rather ancient than his true age. With a heavy heart, he ruminated upon all the lives lost, soul weeping for all the unnecessary suffering and loss. Mewlius, Furrdinand, Mewoses, Catrick, Mattmew, Amewlia, Cleocatra, Catarina, Pawla, Clawdia, Meowgaret, and countless others—they were all gone now, and for what? To line the pockets of monarch and his greed. Were such rulers even fit to rule? They only concerned themselves with their own selfish desires, everything and everyone else merely pawns and steppingstones to bring them closer to their insatiable greed. It was utterly revolting. The world didn’t need so-called “leaders” like those.

His exhausted spirit protested, yearning for rest. Catpurrnicus’s mind drifted back to the beginning, back to Great Catain and the start of Catnam. Back in those days he hadn’t had a single worry. Resources had been abundant. No one had been prepared, convinced no tragedy could ever befall them. That had been seven long years ago, but it felt like an eternity. Cat George the 3rd began imposing increasing taxes on catnip. They were hardly noticeable at first, but they never stopped. Each time they turned around it grew.

The populace was growing dissatisfied, a group of them decided to venture across the sea towards freedom. Many new settlements were established, and for a time the people believed themselves to finally be freed of the tyranny, celebrating with feasts consisting of plentiful chicken nuggets and saucers of milk. Unfortunately for them, Cat George the 3rd wouldn’t allow it. He sent his men after them to enforce the taxes and tacking on exorbitant tariffs, too. The people searched for loopholes to the ridiculous fees, but the king’s collectors were ruthless and extremely strict.

Discontent and fury built up throughout society into a fervor. Catnip prices became so unreasonably inflated that the people reached their boiling point. Meowston became a hub of activity and insurrection. Shipments of catnip arrived in the harbor, but the citizens refused to purchase any. Revolting, the people pitched all the catnip into the harbor. Cat George the 3rd was furious, refusing to let such mutiny to go unpunished.

Cat George the 3rd mobilized his forces, unsettling the balance of the world. All other countries were left uneasy, having turned a previous blind eye to the events unfolding with Great Catain. Refusing to be made a fool, Cat George the 3rd pulled strings, manipulating behind the scenes in attempt to acquired what he desired. He demanded others honor treaties and ally agreements, forcing their hands when they’d rather not become dragged into the tumultuous conflict.

The amassed forces dwindled the world’s resources. Sustaining the armies led to intense shortages of milk, great upset rolling through the masses. Cat George the 3rd’s actions led up to the 52nd Cat War, also known as Catnam. It was a catastrophe. Catpurrnicus and the others had heard the tragic tales of all the former Cat Wars, but they had all been ancient history by their lifetimes. With the peaceful times, they had convinced themselves that they were mere fables that their grandparents had told to make them behave as kittens. They were wrong, so very wrong. To their horror they witnessed the atrocities of war, just like each of the previous Cat Wars, friends and foes alike battling for mere sips of milk. The battles were fierce while the losses were tremendous.

The world was never the same, leaving massive, deep scars upon the earth and their hearts. After years and years of strife and battles they had finally dismantled Cat George the 3rd’s web of manipulation, mayhem, and tyranny. The false king was dethroned, and the world was granted peace once more. They had dreamed of the war’s conclusion forever, but the reality of the finale was nothing like they anticipated. They were forever changed and could never go back to the way they used to be. They were jaded. Broken. Millions were lost and would never be returned. More still yearned for rest for their weary souls. Nothing would ever repair the trauma to their bodies, psyches, and spirits. Nothing would ever mend the irrefutable damage.