1814

As you stood on the rugged shores of St. Helena, you couldn't help but notice an orange cat, its fur a vibrant contrast to the muted landscape, being led away with a sense of solemnity. This was no ordinary exile; the cat was being banished from the company of its fellow felines, and there were British cats present—members of the Garrison and various Officials who observed the proceedings with a mix of curiosity and indifference.

Amidst the gathering, you could hear the orange cat mumble in irritation, its voice barely above a whisper, “Pourquoi ai-je perdu?” It spoke in muffled French, a language that seemed oddly fitting yet entirely comical, considering that cats certainly lack the ability to articulate such phrases with clarity. The absurdity of a literal cat grappling with the weight of defeat was not lost on you, adding a surreal layer to the scene unfolding before your eyes. Here was a creature, expelled from its world, struggling to comprehend its fate in a way that felt both poignant and profoundly ridiculous.