I Thought You Were Dead
I do not know a damn iota about magical forces but let me tell you something--there are two full moons in this month of May, the one today, and another one on the 31st, and there is something powerful going on with that, I'm not the only one seeing ghosts pretending to be dreams, men roaming about houses, more curious than malevolent, and when I two days ago spoke to a couple of cats down the road about coming by for a visit I certainly did not think any cats would come by for a visit, especially a dead one.
You know I mentioned awhile back about my shamefully serious intention of kidnaping an area feline. I called the kitty LaDainian and the owners apparently called him Fuzzy. As it turned out Fuzzy belonged to a prominent local and that got Fuzzy a mention in the local paper, first as missing and then the next week as an apparent roadkill. Since that day when I read about the demise of Fuzzy it has been a lonely cat-less existence up here on the hill. Until I called from the road to those two cats up in a town yard, from a distance of a hundred feet or more, and said come on by sometime. I told them where to come. One of the cats looked like he was actually listening to me, and turning his head a quarter to the side and slightly up, I could swear he was making a mental note of my directions.
Yesterday I was right here trying out this new Netflix feature of free streaming movies, trying to get through the horror of the Japanese film, Imprint, and a cat, I don't think it was the one I was talking to up in town, came striding up the driveway. It looked like LaDainian. There could be perhaps a Feline Communications Network and it may be that a flash bulletin was put out to the effect--lonely, crusty caretaker on nice property, skilled in the art of cat but hesitant to pursue ownership, no experience necessary, alive preferred, but not necessary.
I went out and called to LaDainian. He stopped, meowed. I said, I thought you were dead. He said, not necessarily. I said, well come over here and let me get a look at you. He strolled over to and under the Jeep and sniffed the oil pan, with serious intent. You don't have to play that cat thing with me, just come over here a minute. He meowed, and headed off towards the backyard. I crossed through the breezeway and sat on the floor, framed by the screened doorway, and waited. For him to explore the bushes. And do his I'm ignoring the birds even if they can't ignore me routine. Then he came over to me and I petted him. He remembered me from his past life but seemed uncertain of how that could be. He was fresh. A fresh, new, late model LaDainian. He did some poses. The--I'm hiding in the bushes pose, the--stalking past the barbecue grill pose, the--I know you/who are you? /I'm just damn cute pose, and the--I own this patio/who are you? pose. I took pictures.
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