Down in an alley of a city not too far from here lived three different communities: the dogs, the cats, and the rats. To say that they lived good lives would be a nice thought, but it would not be the truth, for they were at constant war, and always had been. The dogs chased and killed the cats, the cats chased and killed the rats, and the rats, though they could not chase and kill the dogs, ate the dog food. Originally the dogs went after the cats because the rats were too quick and sneaky, and it was the dogs’ opinion that it was the cats’ duty to take care of the rats. Well, the rats ate the dog food because there was nothing else to eat, and because it was their opinion that the bigger and stronger dogs were supposed to take care of the cats, but did not seem to care enough since rats continued to be chased and killed by the cats. And the cats, the cats had always felt it was simply their duty and privilege rid the world of the detestable rats, and so they had always chased and killed them.
These wars had gone on for as long as time could tell, and after a while, only a few of the leaders still knew what fueled them. For the rest of the members of the communities, it was simply second nature. It was a way of life, just like the rising and setting of the sun. It was just as common for a dog to find his food gone or a rat or cat to find his brother bloody and dead in a dark corner of the alley as it was to find snow in the winter and rain in the spring.
Amidst these tragic moments, however, were times of joy. And during this season, the cat community was full of the Christmas spirit. They had gathered in the cat mayor’s house to sing Christmas carols, like they always did.
After they had sung for a while, the mayor motioned over to the piano player to take a break so he could make a toast. He stood up in front of the community and raised his glass high in the air.
“Might I make a toast to Peace in the Alley, and Goodwill toward Cats.”
“Here, here,” agreed one cat, raising his glass.
“Amen,” chimed another.
As the community drank to the mayor’s toast, a certain cat, a simple-minded, quiet tabby, stood there, his glass un-drunk.
“Why must it be only Goodwill toward Cats?”
The comment was only half-mumbled and to himself, for the community had never paid much attention to this simple-minded, quiet tabby, and he had never had much confidence to speak his mind, but now the whole house seemed to hear it. The cheers and drinking abated to reveal complete silence and a myriad of staring eyes.
The simple-minded, quiet tabby had not expected this, but after pausing a moment, continued his thoughts. “I mean, there are more communities than this one here, and if there is to be peace in this alley, mustn’t we give goodwill to rats as well?”
The community had never dreamed of such a concept. But for some reason, may it be the Christmas spirit or the conviction of one simple-minded, quiet tabby, they put it to the test and relented from chasing and killing the rats from then on out. And you know what? It started a revolution. The rats stopped eating the dog food. And since the rats stopped eating the dog food, the dogs stopped chasing and killing the cats.
It did not take long for the cats to notice the difference. “My goodness,” the mayor cat proclaimed, “the simple-minded, quiet tabby must be a genius.”
And the mayor was not alone in his opinion. The community looked on this simple-minded, quiet tabby as a sort of philosopher or prophet, if you will. They adorned him in robes and laurel leaves and eventually, as time passed, placed his bust on their coinage.
Many years passed and the simple-minded, quiet tabby grew old along with his peers, as well as those of the rat and dog communities who had since established tokens of peace and tolerance with one another. Life continued peacefully and new generations arose, only hearing of stories of the once violent days in the alley.
But one day, a younger dog of a wild sort found his food gone, for his brother had eaten the rest of it the night before. However, this dog had heard stories of the old days and instead of looking inward to blame, looked outward and chased and killed a young cat in a dark corner of the alley. Upon the discovery of his brother bloody and dead, the now very old mayor cat, understandably perturbed at the occurrence, went to the dog mayor to demand an explanation. The dog mayor, not having heard what had happened, insisted that the blame must lie with the rats.
And so the war commenced—dog against cat, cat against rat, and rat against dog, much to the dismay, of course, of the simple-minded, quiet tabby. In vain he tried to stop the madness to again initiate the peace that he had brought to the alley years before. Gone were the days of peace and goodwill.
“What did that ever do for us?” cried one angry cat as he spat upon his face. “Now we are faced with more rats that we know how to deal with. We should have never stopped chasing and killing them.”
But the simple-minded, quiet tabby did not give up. The more he saw the bloody deaths, the more he strove to put an end to it. But the more he strove to put an end to it, the more the community despised him. They ripped off his robes and laurel leaves, threw away and melted down the coins with his bust, and cast him out of the community with nothing.
The cat was left to wander the city outside the alley of the three communities, homeless and naked, to fend for himself. Life was hard, and at times almost unbearable, not to mention very lonely, but somehow he still managed. But even though he had been cast out, his heart still lay with his community, and when he knew his time was coming to die, he decided to return with one simple request, to be buried with his ancestors.
When he arrived in the alley, however, he was surprised and horrified to find that absolutely nothing was there—no dogs, no cats, and no rats. They had all destroyed each other and left only a memory and a lesson behind to any unlucky beholders that might be doomed to pass by.
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