Denmark forms the southernmost part of Scandinavia. It looks like an old pixy with a hat on its head, and the islands are like drops falling from the pixy´s nose.
Jutland is the largest part of Denmark.
Then, there are lots of big and small islands, all in all 555 or more of them! There are no mountains in Denmark. It is quite flat, but the Danes call the highest hill, Heaven´s Hill.
The country is such a green field with fruit trees and yellow sand beaches. Many people call it: The Land of Butter and Honey.
Denmark is a monarchy. The queen of Denmark lives in Copenhagen, Wonderful Copenhagen. She has three princes. One of them is her husband, Henrik from France. The other two are her sons prince Frederik and prince Joachim. Prince Frederik is married to princess Mary from Australia and they have two chikdren, Christian and a new born baby girl. Joachim has two sons Felix and Nicholai.
The Royal House has kept a goat and several dogs in their household. The Danes love pets.
Denmark is a member of the European Union.
Our Metallica, whom this story is about, was not part of the Queen´s family. She was but a common cat when the story began, born in the country, deep inside a big wood. She had many brothers and sisters.
Metallica was metallic blue and right on the front of her neck she had a white spot which shone like a diamond. When she was a little kitten, she learned how to survive out in the wilderness, especially at night.
A real cat is an animal of the night. Metallica was a real cat. While the people on the farm were fast asleep, she wandered around in the big wood. She caught mice and kept the farm free of their gnawing and scratching during the night. There were also chicken and hens and a rooster around the farmhouse; real, free, cackling, promenading, strutting, white and golden brown hens. They respected Metallica greatly, but if she came too close, she risked being pecked on her nose.
Once in October, when the wood was still deep green and beautiful, a visitor came in a car. Metallica was enjoying the sunny afternoon under the white and warm gable. She used to watch people´s behavior.
The visitor went into the cottage, came out again and seized her. She tried to break free, but he was too strong. It was no use. He put her in his car and drove off, away from her home and out of the woods.
While they were driving, the man kept speaking to Metallica. He said:
“From now on you will live with Mrs. Jensen because she is so lonely. Animals can often help lonely people. Mrs. Jensen looks forward to having you in her nice home in Copenhagen. It is so far away from the farm and the woods, that you had better not try to find your way back home.”
And he said many other awful things which Metallica didn´t hear because she fell asleep. The swaying movements of the car made her feel as if she were a little kitten, inside her mother.
They drove on for a long time. They even drove over the long long Great Belt Bridge.
Metallica woke up as the man lifted her from the seat of the car and carried her into a house. She tried to break free; yes, she even scratched the man´s hand until he bled, but he held her firmly in his grip. As they came into the house, he locked the door behind them.
This was a very fine, old house. It was in the rich part of the city, a part called Frederiksberg, right in the middle of Copenhagen.
Mrs. Jensen became so happy and excited when she saw the beautiful cat, Metallica, that she wanted to hold her, but Metallica succeeded in running away and hiding under the big sofa.
“Come here, my dear little pussycat,” Mrs. Jensen pleaded and bent so far over, that her face got flushed and sweaty. Yet, Metallica stayed safely where she was.
Then Mrs. Jensen went into her kitchen, opened a can of famous Danish meatballs in gravy and emptied it into a deep bowl bearing the golden inscription: “Pussycat.”
“Eat your meatballs, dear,” Mrs. Jensen said softly, took a seat in a comfortable armchair and waited. She knew, that in due time the food would tempt Metallica.
And even if Metallica missed her woods, especially the clean air there, a place where she could choose whatever dinner she liked from the riches of nature – she would eventually fall for Mrs. Jensen´s tempting dish.
Metallica came out from her hiding place and ate all the meatballs. She was very hungry because she hadn´t wanted any of the food the driver had offered her on their way to this place. But this food was so delicious! What warm feelings and happiness it gave inside! This was absolutely the best meal Metallica had ever had, even better than the best of mice.
After eating all of the meatballs, Metallica felt better. Gradually she started walking around in her new home. Most of all, she liked Mrs. Jensen´s bedroom. It was filled with soft pillows and there was a real down comforter right in the middle of the pillows and blankets. Perhaps this Mrs. Jensen was not so bad after all!
Mrs. Jensen watched with great pleasure how Metallica tested each of the pillows and finally chose the down comforter. However, later on when Mrs. Jensen wanted to share the bed with her, Metallica jumped out of this warm paradise.
Now, that Metallica had a full stomach and felt rested, she wanted some fresh air and exercise. This is the right of every cat, especially at night. Still, this was obviously beyond Mrs. Jensen´s understanding. She went to bed, put out the light and started snoring immediately thereafter. What a gruesome offence!
The only window in the bedroom was closed and locked. It couldn´t be pushed to open.
Metallica felt her little heart sink all the way down to her four paws; she was a prisoner. This was not her woods. This was not her farm with its many open windows.
And there, in the middle of a big city, in total darkness, in a dark house filled with silk pillows and breakable things, she promised herself, that she would run away.
She would watch Mrs. Jensen´s every movement. Sooner or later Mrs. Jensen would have to open a window, or better still, a door.
She, Metallica, was at least a better runner than Mrs. Jensen. That was for sure. And she would run as fast as she could through all the long streets in this strange place and then she would find her woods.
Metallica was so angry, that she did not want to share the comforter with Mrs. Jensen. She preferred sleeping on the floor. And, since a cat can always sleep, she soon dozed off and had the most pleasant dreams about Danish meatballs in brown gravy. Yummy, yummy.
In the morning, Mrs. Jensen got up and looked for her cat.
“Oh, what a nice little cat,” she thought. “And a polite one too, just sleeping on the floor and waiting for me to wake up.”
Mrs. Jensen went into the kitchen and poured some skimmed milk into a saucer and said: “Here kitty, kitty, drink your morning milk, nice and fresh.”
Much, much later Metallica finally saw some signs, that Mrs. Jensen was intending to leave the house. This was what Metallica was waiting for. If Mrs. Jensen wanted to leave the house, she would have to open a door. And this, of course, she did. However, just before opening the door, Mrs. Jensen fastened a leash around Metallica´s neck. A leash around a cat´s neck!
Metallica thought, that each time she turned her head she would choke. She tried to free herself, but couldn´t.
Mrs. Jensen held the leash firmly, opened the front door and out they walked.
Metallica was so ashamed, that her heart was about to burst. A city cat ran across the street and looked at her in surprise, as if it wanted to exclaim:
“What´s wrong with you? Are you a real cat, or what?”
Metallica´s heart cried out from hurt pride.
They met a dog and its owner. Mrs. Jensen said “good morning” to the owner and they had a long chat. The dog kept staring at Metallica as if it wanted to say:
“No use believing you´re a dog. You´re just a poor cat. Only dogs are supposed to walk with their owners. Not cats. Cats are supposed to sniff for food in garbage cans. What a funny cat! Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Ha!”
Metallica tried to break loose. It was no use. Mrs. Jensen held the leash firmly.
When they returned to the house and Mrs. Jensen removed the leash from Metallica´s neck, Metallica hid under the sofa and didn´t come out all day long. Yet, she was so hungry in the evening, that she had to come out and eat the delicious meatballs.
After that, Mrs. Jensen went to bed. She said:
“You´re a very good cat. We are sure to become friends. Of course, you have to get used to your new home.”
She made sure not to have any windows open and the door was firmly locked.
Metallica started positioning herself right in front of the door to show Mrs. Jensen, that she was waiting for it to open. She started doing this every night. Mrs. Jensen said to her:
“But dear little kittycat, kitty, kitty, we have been out today, haven´t we? At the baker´s and to the park. You loved watching the ducks in the pond. Only dirty, old, wild cats are out there tonight, so you´d better stay in with me. They would skin you alive, if they saw you.
You are far too beautiful for that kind of company.”
Metallica pretended, that she didn´t hear what Mrs. Jensen said. She just kept sitting there, right in front of the door with her back to the living room and the kitchen.
Metallica´s behavior made Mrs. Jensen so nervous, that she had to call the doctor and ask for some medicine. She told the doctor all about the cat´s behavior. Her doctor called the drugstore and told them to give Mrs. Jensen the strongest pills they had.
That very same day, Metallica had the leash around her neck again and away they went all the way to the drugstore to fetch the pills.
The drugstore was on Old King´s Road, so they had to walk quite a long way.
They met a lot of dog owners out with their dogs.
Metallica was the only cat on a leash.
“One cannot do whatever one pleases,” Mrs. Jensen said when Metallica pulled the leash trying to get free.
“Not even a cat can,” Mrs. Jensen added.
Metallica didn´t agree. Besides that, she knew a lot about human beings. Sooner or later, Mrs. Jensen would believe, that Metallica was fully tame and would not think of running away from the house with the meatball bowl. Then Mrs. Jensen would forget to lock the door and shut the windows. Once was all Metallica needed.
One evening, after Mrs. Jensen had taken her medicine, she walked through the house with a big smile on her face, checking the windows and the door. She sang:
“See the little kittycat, oh, see how sweet she is -”
while Metallica sat patiently at the door with her back to the living room and the kitchen.
Suddenly, there was this big noise and sirens right on their street. It was the firemen and the police and the rescue team. Something awful must be happening outside.
This turned out to be true. There was a fire in the big hotel right across the street.
Mrs. Jensen was so alarmed, that she opened the front door to see what was going on.
There was no leash around Metallica´s neck. Nobody noticed the black streak, that sped through the dark night. Nobody noticed a little metallic blue cat who had been a prisoner for three weeks and was now free. Not even Mrs. Jensen noticed. She was so afraid of the big flames, that rose high into the sky on the other side of her own street, that she forgot everything else. When she turned around and closed the door, she called out: “Little kitty, kitty, kitty, where are you?”
Mrs. Jensen suddenly relized, that Metallica was not there.
“Ungrateful cat!” she said and swallowed a tranquilizer.
Metallica didn´t care. She hurried to get as far away as possible – away from the noise and the smoke and the shouting humans, into the darkness of the night. She could see in the dark.
- How wonderful to be rid of the leash! How wonderful to be able to go wherever you like!-
“I am free and I am myself and I am on my own!” her heart sang.
“Nobody can catch me. I will never have a leash around my neck again!”
She was so filled with a feeling of freedom and pleasure, that she didn´t notice a huge shepherd dog who growled at her because she had run over his tail.
“No one can catch me!” her heart sang and she went on running and was like a black streak in the dark night – away, away from Mrs. Jensen´s part of town.
She didn´t know, that she was on her way to the worst and dirtiest part of Copenhagen. It is filled with wild cats.
Suddenly she saw many pairs of yellow cats´ eyes peering at her. She stopped and waited.
What a great pleasure to meet so many free cats! She had missed her own cat family so much; yet her joy soon turned to fear and horror.
One of the wild cats ran straight at her and bit her on her tail. It hurt so much. Another one attacked her and then a third one, biting her and beating her and trying to tear her ears off. They were real wild cats who found her too well fed and elegant. It hurt frightfully.
“Quit it!” Metallica cried.
Those, who hadn´t attacked her yet started laughing at her. They, too, were about to have a go at her.
Suddenly, she spotted a high wall on her left. She managed to run to it and jump up on it.
She was so nimble, that the other cats could only stare. As she stood there high above them, they wondered how a sofa cat could jump so high. They themselves didn´t have such strength. This made them uneasy.
Now, that Metallica could relax for a moment, she sat down and started licking her sore paws. When she had arrived, she had looked beautiful, so now she smoothed her back hairs and looked a lot better than she did a moment earlier. Her tail was bleeding. However, she was certainly not going to show these rough cats any weakness.
She remained sitting on top of the high wall looking down at the others. They could all see the shining white diamond-like spot right on the front of her neck. What a beauty!
The wild cats quickly forgot about fighting. They sat down on their tails and stared. They were so fascinated by this unusual cat, that they lost interest in skinning her alive.
One of them, Grey Straggle, said loud and clear:
“You can come back down to us, if you want to. We´re not going to hurt you.”
Metallica was not stupid. She didn´t trust this straggly yardcat in a slum.
“What do you want?” she hissed.
“We´re not interested in anyone who can´t catch her own food. You´re fat. You´re overfed. You should share with us what you have,” said White Dash.
“Yes, of course I´ll do that,” Metallica said and smiled.
“But then you have to come with me to my new home at Mrs. Jensen´s.
She´ll put you on a leash and make you walk with her like a dog along Old King´s Road; but if that´s what you want….”
“Ugh!” they all cried out.
“Is that why you came here?” Grey Straggle asked.
“Yes,” Metallica answered, “because I´d rather starve than be a prisoner.”
“Hurrey!” Grey Straggle yelled. “Hurrey!” White Dash yelled. “Hurrey!” all the others yelled, because they always did evereything just like Grey Straggle and White Dash, even if they didn´t understand why.
“You can sleep in my corner,” Grey Straggle said. A strange feeling had seized his little cat heart.
“In mine too!” White Dash hurried to say.
“In mine too!” all the others cried out loudly.
They were cross eyed from looking so far up for so long.
Metallica started washing herself.
“I have a plan,” White Dash said.”
“What?” the others said in chorus.
“You show us where this Mrs. Jensen lives and we´ll get her to feed us because we´re always hungry.”
“She never gives anything away,” said Metallica. “That´s why she is so rich. But we can try.”
“Let´s go now,” said Grey Straggle who was so terribly hungry, that the hunger pangs were stronger than the strange new feeling the sight of Metallica had awakened in him.
“No!” Metallica cried out. “She is watching the great big fire just across the street. Let´s not disturb her now. Let´s try tomorrow night when she is back in her kitchen.”
As she said this, the morning sun broke through the clouds over the city of Copenhagen. It was dawn.
“I´ll sleep in your corner today,” Metallica said to Grey Straggle.
Grey Straggle hurried behind a billboard in order to tidy up in his hole, so Metallica could have her day´s sleep there.
Then they lay down, paw in paw, head to head and slept soundly the whole day.
Poor little Mrs. Jensen was so sad because her little kittycat had disappeared.
She called the Animal Protection Agency and the police and she had a photograph of her beautiful Metallica put in the Frederiksberg´s local paper.
Evereyone said they would do what they could to help her find her sweet little cat. She walked to all the places where she and Metallica used to take their strolls.
She even walked all the way down to the drugstore on Old King´s Road. Metallica was nowhere to be seen.
“My poor little kitty, kittycat. What do you eat now, that you´re wandering about in backyards in the great city of Copenhagen and can´t find your way home? Perhaps you´ll be run over by a car, because you´re not at all used to cars.
The fire must have scared you out of your wits,” Mrs. Jensen thought to herself as she peered through the bushes and behind the trash cans in their neighbourhood.
Then she got a fantastic idea!
Metallica loved Danish meatballs in thick brown gravy. Mrs. Jensen would make them herself,
instead of buying canned ones. She would put them in a beautiful bowl and place the bowl at her own front door.
- What a great idea!-
This was exactly what Mrs. Jensen did. She placed a bowl filled with home made, steaming meatballs right in front of her door. Then she took a seat by the window and waited.
She must have dozed off, because suddenly she discovered, that the bowl was empty. She looked all around.
What was it, that stood in front of the garage?
A straggly grey cat licking his lips.
Mrs. Jensen hurried inside. This was not why she had put the bowl out.
When she came out again, she saw, that her dear little kitty, Metallica, was standing by the strange creature´s side.
“What kind of a tomcat have you dragged home with you?” she said in a strict voice. “You have given all the meatballs – given them to a lousy, wild tomcat! Why?”
Mrs. Jensen´s voice had tears in it, but she was not crying.
Metallica behaved as if she hadn´t understood the question.
“Now, come over here, my dear and take a nap on my warm down comforter,” Mrs. Jensen said in a pleading tone.
Then, all the other cats meowed from the top of her garage, where they had hidden themselves, all nine of them.
Mrs. Jensen grew so frightened, that she ran into her house and slammed the door behind her. She wanted so much to have her sweet little Metallica inside with her, but certainly not all of her new friends. That would be too much!
Her loneliness grew stronger. It started eating her heart. She decided, that from now on she would cut down on Metallica´s food rations, so the kittycat would learn not to waste what she was given.
The following day, she put only half of the usual portion in Metallica´s meatball bowl.
What she had feared came to pass. Without any show of scruples or shame, Metallica arrived with all her new companions and they shared what was in the bowl.
“How rude!” Mrs. Jensen scolded, but the voice of loneliness in her whispered:
“If you don´t give them any food from your door, they will stop waiting. They will go somewhere else, somewhere where people are kind to them. They will all go, even Metallica.”
Yet, a strong and stubborn fight between Mrs. Jensen and Metallica began.
Mrs. Jensen´s heart was filled with love for life and everything living. She was an elderly, retired teacher and didn´t know what to do with all the unused love locked up in her heart. She loved people and animals alike. Yet, since she had retired, people weren´t as interested in her as before. What was she good for now? Her face was filled with wrinkles, and she couldn´t run. But she could do many other things. She had read so many clever and kind words in books and magazines and she knew how to use her head. Using her heart was more difficult because you don´t really learn that at school, do you? So, it was very hard for Mrs. Jensen to accept the fact, that Metallica preferred wild cats to her and her nice, warm home. How ungrateful! She really felt it was rude of Metallica to bring that rabble with her back to such a nice home – and to stay out all night long with them, too!
The next day, Mrs. Jensen cut Metallica´s food ration down to a fifth of what it had been before.
She sat by the window and watched the hungry cats fight for every single meatball they could snatch from the bowl or from each other. The sight made her heart weep, but she decided not to give in. Metallica plus ten other cats was too much for her.
“A little good is better than too much good,” she said to herself.
They couldn´t go on like this, could they?”
She hoped, that the awesome snowstorm, which usually came around Christmas, would force Metallica to seek shelter indoors and leave her friends. But no. Metallica stayed put.
Such was the situation for days, for weeks and finally for months.
Mrs. Jensen saw how thin Metallica was becoming, thin and miserable, but she persisted and so did Mrs. Jensen. They were at war with each other. The question was who would win.
It was almost spring. In March, the sun had risen high enough in the sky to start melting the great ice blocks, that kept the earth in bondage during wintertime.
Mrs. Jensen looked out of the window. Her face was pale and sad. It had been a long time since she´d seen Metallica and her wild friends. Mrs. Jensen was tired of the fight and the long, cold winter.
“In the spring I can sit in my garden and then my little cat may come and sit in the sun beside me. Just the two of us,” she thought to herself.
While she was thinking this, Mrs. Jensen saw Metallica come walking right on top of the wall of snow along her driveway.
What a terrible sight! The hard winter months and not enough food had made Metallica so skinny, that she wasn´t elegant at all, not the way she used to be. Mrs. Jensen could see, that Metallica was extremely hungry. It was the way she looked, a bit like Grey Straggle and White Dash, that made Mrs. Jensen´s heart ache. The ice blocks in her heart began melting.
Mrs. Jensen hurried to the kitchen, filled a china bowl with her finest Danish meatballs in gravy and placed the bowl right in front of her door, leaving it ajar.
No sooner had she moved away from the door than all of the other cats came running. They fought for the food – one more bite and one more – and the bowl was empty in a fiffy.
The melting process in Mrs. Jensen´s heart had now reached her brain.
She immediately filled a second bowl – not as expensive as the china one, though and she had bought some cat food at a discount shop.
And thus it went, as she filled bowl after bowl. Even hungry humans would have appreciated a meal like that.
She let the door stand slightly open, because she hoped, that Metallica would come in.
However, at midnight she had to lock it again for fear of burglars thinking they were invited to come in too.
When she woke up the next morning, she realized, that she had forgotten to take her tranquilizers. Yet, she had slept like a log! Why? She had even accidentally left a tinly little window at the back of the house open. When she entered the scullery, she saw, that the cats had been there or rather, she could smell them! Ugh!
They had obviously, all of them, been in and out of the tiny little window all night long while she slept. She felt quite angry when she saw all the paw stains on the kitchen table and the floor. And the odour!
Could I teach them how to be clean and respectful?” she asked herself.
“I´ll try!” she almost shouted.
And so began a new chapter in Mrs. Jensen´s long life. She started filling up eleven bowls with the most delicious cat food she could think of, this time not from the discount shop, but real good home made meals. Every day!
I shall have to go to sales and save coupons now, that my family has grown so big!” she exclaimed smiling.
Spring was just around the corner.
Every morning, when she woke up, she went into the little room next to the kitchen, where the tiny window stood open. The eleven bowls were always empty. Yet, no cat was to be seen. Metallica had obviously told them about the leash.
Mrs. Jensen became so busy, that she forgot all about her tranquilizers. She bought food for her new friends, cleaned the scullery every day and put some blankets out there each night, so they could sleep softly and more comfortably, if they decided to risk staying overnight! She forgot all about her loneliness.
One day, when it was sunny on her porch, Mrs. Jensen put her rocking chair out and sat enjoying the healing rays of the warm summer sun. She must have dozed off.
She woke with a start!
Metallica was standing there, gazing at her. For the first time, Metallica looked her straight in the eye. She seemed to be asking whether or not her friends could come and join them.
“Yes, o.k., let them come,” Mrs. Jensen said.
It was a if she had waved a magic wand. All ten city cats suddenly emerged from behind the greenhouse in the garden.
“So that´s where they´ve been staying,” she thought, “hiding from me during the hard winter days. Poor things.”
She smiled and gave them a friendly look. Then, for the first time in her life, she saw cats smile. All the little kittycat faces wrinkled up.
After this, Mrs. Jensen´s life was neither lonesome nor boring.
“I didn´t know, that cats had a sense of humor,” she said one day to her next door neighbor who marvelled at the sudden number of cats around Mrs. Jensen.
“They are great fun and imaginative creatures, even the tomcats,” she added after some hesitation and then returned to her house.
On her way to her garden, loaded down with meatballs, she smiled to herself and thought:
“I wonder if Metallica has any more friends.”