i always knew i was a dog person.
i didn't know that was because i am the cat.
so there's this cat in the house. will stay for a week. has a name so stupid only a human can think of it. (we spare a moment here to mourn the total cost [time, energy spent, nerve connections] of being able to recite a certain musical from start to finish. among others. ahem. least the others i regret less.)
he does all the things i do or feel like doing. (when? well. much more often than i'd like.) looks around suspiciously. a place to hide. meows. gets the wide-pupiled off-blue stare. (pretty sure mine is more of a thousand yarder, his more point blank.) finds somewhere relatively sheltered, gets in. still nervous. looks around, gets out. walks the length of the house. meows again. doesn't know this place. on alert all the time. nothing to do, even as a cat. somebody closes a door. looks up, what was that? can't beat the conditioning. danger, danger. silence. okay then. meows. starts all over again. just killing time. wish i had a way of telling him yes. yes, it will end eventually. or you'll get used to it. will be fine either way.
and here i am sitting & worrying about what he thinks of me.
wait, he doesn't worry about that. i don't think.
and what he's doing all cats do.
(and he's sitting at the threshold of the room watching me type & [i'm sure] thinking of his Name. the name with a why have you forsaken me.)
1 comment:
only other memory with felines, properly aww'y this time: waking up on the first of january twentyten to find one kitten lying on my stomach and another on the pillow. they were in their own home, which probably helped & i was in such a good mood that i even forgot my usual uneasiness around living things with small brains like babies and pets and men and kept still as long as i could.
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