Cat Time

Around my house, there are two kinds of time. Regular Time reserved for such trivialities as getting to work, watching the news, going to church, eating dinner, sunrise and sunset. Stuff like that.

The second kind is Cat Time. For those who are owned by a cat, you know what I mean. There’s the come-and-see-what-I-caught-you’ll-be-proud-of-me time when you are right in the middle of finding out who murdered Grandma on your favorite tv show.

There’s the I-want-to-sit-on-your-lap time. I am sitting there in my comfy chair, zoning out on that new episode of “The Marvelous Mrs Maisel”. The bowl of popcorn rests on my lap, all buttery and salted the way I like it. Kitty wants on my lap right where that big bowl of popcorn sits. For the last six weeks, I have tried to persuade her that I have a nice lap. Now she has taken me up on my offer. Of all times.

I move the popcorn out of the way and she jumps up on the lap. Now you would think she would lay down and leave well enough alone. Oh no. She has to make sure I know who is in charge. She starts kneading. Talk about pain.

The time I hate the most is the I-want-out-I have-to-go-chase-something time. This usually occurs at 4 am around my house. I say, “Go ‘way. Let me sleep.” I hear this retort, “You don’t want me to go way. I know how to miss the litter box.” When the god speaks, I must respond. No matter what.

In most religions, there is a place for repentance. Cat owners know that does not hold with kitty. No matter how much I beg for forgiveness for that one time that I did not respond to kitty, there is no repentance on earth that will be accepted. I broke The Commandment: Cats rule. Even if I wear sack cloth and ashes and present kitty with special treats for months on end, kitty shall always hold it over me. Lest I transgress a second time. God help me if I transgress a second time.

I have come to one conclusion about cats and their times. This is their revenge for that moment of weakness we called them the one word they truly hate. And believe me. There is no revenge quite like Cat Revenge. So what is The Word? Cute as in “Honey, we just have to have him. He’s so cute.”

If you didn’t say it, you thought it. Cats know. They read minds.

The Genesis of Cats

In the Beginning, Big Mama Cat
Looked around and saw all that
Was nought, just a big empty place:
“I must fill this great hole of space.
I am lonely for a meow and a purr.
I’d like one of each, a him and a her,
Two of every breed and type,
A lion to roar, a tiger with stripes,
A cougar faster than light,
A jaguar to frighten the night,
A Siamese with one of her twins,
Tabbies with their kith and their kin,
Russians Blues for a color to the palette,
And street kitties I’ll add to the ballot.”
Then B.M.C. did populate
The universe with the first rate
Of all the creatures wide and far.
So give ye thanks to your lucky stars
For that cat in the window asleep,
For that cat at play with jumps and leaps,
Who gobbles up the kibbles and bits
And curls in the chair where you love to sit.
She is a blessing, never forget,
A favored one of Big Mama Cat.

A Dawg Named Sam

I want to talk about a dawg. His name was Sam. Least that’s what he called hisself. Others knew him as Dammit or Git or Sumbitch or Git-on. That’s cause he was a tramp. He walked from place to place, calling no place home. Wasn’t that he didn’t want a home. He did. He wanted one mighty bad. Yet nowhere did he find any hospitality for the likes of hisself.

He was about knee-high-on-a-six-foot-man tall and what you’d call a half breed, half this and half that and half something else. His coat all caked up with mud and so it was hard to tell what color that coat was. If you looked hard, you’d see some brown and some black and a bit of red.

Mostly he was passing-through, getting his meals wherever he could. Got real good at finding a dumpster that might have a feast every coupla weeks. He stocked up his stomach real good, then moved on. Cause he knew nobody wanted him. Tween dumpsters he’d find a garbage can, then someone’d see him tearing at the trash and throw a rock at him. With that, he moved on some more. Long time ago, he’d decided he didn’t want to be any bother, and he tried not to be. But it’s hard when you’re a dawg and nobody cares and your stomach is as empty as a pauper’s bank account.

There were times a dog catcher showed up. Tried to outrun him and net him down. Sam was smart and he was fast. So he ended up on the no-catch list. By that time, he was on his way to another place, another town, another neighborhood. It wasn’t no matter where it was he was going. All that mattered was that he was going.

Now if you’d got up real close to Sam, you’d see the kindest eyes you ever did want to see. You’d know there was no danger in this dawg. There was only love. And you’d see lonely too. When a dawg is on the move the way Sam was, it was rare that any human person would get that chance to see them eyes of his up close.

Where Sam started out, he couldn’t have told you. Some distant memory of a family lodged deep in his brain but that was a long time ago. These days there was hurt and there was fear in that heart of his. As I said, the wandering life is a lonely life. So from time to time Sam would find a tree to keep him company and lie under that tree and dream. He preferred an oak tree. He would wonder if there was a human in his future. He wasn’t choosey. Any human would do. But if he’d had his druthers, he’d like a human who had a bit of kindness in their ways.

Sam must have been on the road four, five years with no particular destination. Seems he’d been looking for something or someone all those years and still had not found what he was looking for. But you know, you may just find that which you been wanting, if you search hard enough, and you search with a pure heart. Sam sure searched hard enough, as hard as any, and it was for sure that he had a pure heart.

Maybe it was that some angel came up to God, pulled on his sleeve and said, “Sir, You might want to take a gander at this here dawg. He’s a wandering dawg. He’s in need of a friend real bad. I been watching him a long time and I guarantee he’s worthy.”

Well, that was why God had angels. So they could watch for things and folks that He might miss. When You are God, You have to keep Your eye on the Big Picture. Which means He didn’t often get a chance to see the little things.

God looked down on Sam and a tear fell from His eyes. Seems that God had a soft spot for dawgs like Sam. So God started doing some thinking. He thought and He thought and He thought some more. Then it came to Him. He knew just the thing for Sam. He called over to one of his extra-special angels and told her the plan He had in mind.

Sam had been tramping for a good four days. His stomach growled mighty hard as he made his way down a dirt road. He thought there might just be a farm nearby. Seems it had been aways since he last saw anything that he could reasonably call dinner.

In the distance, he heard some crying. Sam was a curious kind of dawg. That curiosity got Sam in trouble way too much, but still it was crying he heard. Even though humans had treated him unkindly, you’d think he would’ve not taken the chance. But he did. The crying came closer and closer as Sam edged hisself through the field of grass. Then he came upon it.

It was a human person. Must have been something like five years old and she sat there on the grass, bawling her eyes out. Sam being Sam he felt compassion for the little person. He walked right up to her and gave her a big lick like he’d known her his whole life. She stopped her bawling. Sam did another lick. This little girl started laughing. He did it again and she laughed harder.

Sam did not hear it. He sensed it. He made a quick turn and there was a rattler staring him right in the eye. That rattler was about to strike. Not at Sam. At the girl. The rattlesnake went for the girl. Sam went for the snake. Just as the snake was about to hit the girl, Sam bit into it. He bit that snake so hard, he bit it in two. Then he threw the snake’s head over aways.

Nearby a man stepped through the grass. Saw Sam and thought the girl was in danger from the dawg. He raised his rifle and aimed. Just as the hunter went to fire, he stopped. He saw the dawg throw that snake away. Then the dawg dropped down in front of the child. The girl went quiet.

The man ran over to the child. Sam bared his teeth. Nothing was going to hurt this child, those teeth said. The man dropped to his knees and said, “Easy, boy, easy. This is my Naomi and I am not about to hurt her.”

Sam liked the softness in the man’s voice. He picked himself up and moved away from the girl. The man lifted his daughter into his arms and hugged her. “Darling, we been looking all over for you. How in the world did you get here?” The girl giggled.

The man walked over and picked up his rifle as Sam saw his opportunity to sneak away.

The man looked at Sam. He said, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Sam did not know what to think. Should he trust this man. He went to run away.

The man called after him, “Sam,” he said. “It’s about time you came on home with us. You look like you could use a meal, some cleaning up and a home. Don’t you think?”

Sam barked. It was the first time he had barked in years. At least, the kind of bark that said, “Thank you.” Then Sam followed the man toward a nearby red barn.

God looked down from His cloud. He said to his angels, “It is good.” The angels all agreed. God smiled. Finally Sam had a home.

Do Animals Have Souls?

What a question! Of course, they have souls. Just look into your horse’s, your cat’s, your dog’s eyes.

I know when I look into my cat’s eyes I see a soul looking back at me. Sometimes her soul is saying, “I love you. I love you a lot.” Sometimes she is saying, “What the hell do you want?” And at other times, “Man, that was a good rat. Yum.” Or sometimes, “What a great day. Enjoy, just enjoy.” Then she goes off and runs or jumps into the bird bath just for a drink of water and she enjoys her complete catness.

I am sure that if you looked into a horse’s eyes you might see those eyes saying, “Gee, I love to run. There is nothing quite like it.” Or “Man, you need to lose some weight. Everytime you ride me, my back hurts for a week.”

Or a dog’s soul saying to his master, “You may be an s.o.b., but you’re my s.o.b.” They love us unconditionally, never holding back. I remember seeing a movie called “Hachi: A Dog’s Tale”. Hachi’s master had died, yet Hachi waited for years for his master to return on the evening train. They were friends, and the dog loved his friend more than anything.

So you can’t tell me that if there’s a life after death that there won’t be animals there. I am not going to believe that. Because a life after death without my cat ain’t any kind of life at all. So there. That answers that question. So on to the next one. Do people have souls?

Maybe. Then again maybe not. At least for some.

Cat-ness

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness

You sleep when you sleep
You purr when you purr
You eat when you eat
You is and always were

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness

A meow is a meow
A tail is a tail
Cat talk and cat speak,
“I’m really very well.”

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness

A tongue is a tongue
To use for cleaning
Then you’re lying down
For some cat dreaming

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness

The sun is a friend
Everyday, everyday
Its light a lullaby
Everything’s okay

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness

The moon comes out
You’re ready to play
To jump and you run
And to have your say.

Crazy little cat
Crazy little cat
All cat with your cat-ness