There was once a cat with five tails, each tail for a house she could visit. Every night with the moonlight shining in her eyes she would go to a different home.
One day, the old servant in the first house of the street, the great yellow manor, asked the cat to stay another day.
“Why do you go away, my pet, night after night?”
“I can never stay except on the nights when there is no moonlight” said the black cat in response.
The old lady was curious. The black cat had been here a long time, longer than even she could remember. Then suddenly, she was unsure. How could it be that even she did not know when the cat came? No, even when she was not old at all, the cat lurked in the corners of what she remembered, all five tails carried through the past.
So one day, after the moonless night, she prepared a plan. All day she toiled away, making butter, a lot of it. She brought it out and left it by the kitchen stove, she kept the windows and doors open, she fanned the smell of butter all through the house. She knew that the night drew near and the cat would be waking from her nap on the thatched roof. The old lady slipped out of the room but kept watch through a door left ajar. From her hiding spot she used a single eye placed between the doors slight opening to protect her trap. She saw the cat slipping in through an invisible space between the rafters.
Intoxicated with the smell in the air, the cat slipped inside, leaping off the cupboards and landed nimbly by the stove. All five tails held high, she looks around, ears turning at every creek and eyes like mirrors. She sees nothing but the witches brew in front of her and starts to eat. She eats and eats, delighted by a truly rare treat. Soon the pot is empty and her stomach is full. She’s so full, so tired that she must sleep. She curls around the stove and lies motionless.
So deep is her slumber that she poops right by the stove, too deep in groggy sleepiness that she doesn’t even want to go far. Right then the old lady arrives and takes her away, wrapping her up under the blanket, to keep her home for the night.
The next morning, the old lady wakes up and only sees the night. She moves to a mirror and meets only the cat looking back at her, their eyes meeting in the reflection. Neighbors watch the cat appear on the roof, their eyes shine like mirrors turned to sunlight. She arches, all five tails held aloft behind her and without a thought disappears into a corner, as cats often do.