Archive for August, 2022
The Conversation…
“Do you know that dogs can hear their person coming home a mile away?”
“And?”
“Do you know that dogs listen to their person’s heartbeat and behave according to the mood of their person?
“So?”
“Do you know that dogs then change their own heartbeats to be in sync with their person’s?”
“Can you get to the point?” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Are you trying to tell me dogs are stupid and needy, or just that cats don’t fawn over the people who who work for them?”
“That’s what you got from what I said?”
“Yeah. Dogs live for others. They’re pathetic, selfless, always waiting and trying to please others. Isn’t that what you were saying? They have no sense of self. It’s embarrassing, if you ask me. I know they can’t help it, but still, they should try and have a little pride in their species. They play with chickens and don’t even eat them. Always helping and begging for pets. It’s humiliating.”
“I don’t know why I bother,” she said, putting a plate of food in front of him.”
“Bother with what? If you’re trying to turn me into a dog, give it up. You’re a cat person, you should know we aren’t like dogs.”
“You do share some of the same traits.”
“Blasphemy,” said the cat, glaring at her.”
“It’s true whether you like it or not.”
“What’s wrong with you? Been watching NOVA again?”
“No. A program on animal behavior.”
“As if any of you know anything about us, or our inner feelings. You talk about our whiskers, our paws, tails and abilities, but you don’t know us. Knowing what we can do, isn’t knowing us. Seeing how small a hole we can fit through has nothing to do with who we are.”
“You’re right.”
“How many people do you think would believe that you and I talk to each other.”
“Got it.”
“Sure, I would chase a chicken and probably eat it, or at least kill it, not in front of you, of course, but it’s what I do. I’m the top predator on the planet, except for you guys. I don’t need a gun or tank, arrows, or anything else to kill. You can’t do anything by yourselves. I’d like to see one of you go after a lion with nothing by your hands. You do everything from far away, then brag about it. Shameful. Your species are cowards with egos.”
“So, how was your day?”
“Fine. I napped, saw a couple of the Queens, visited the inside cat down the block, then took another nap. How about you?”
“Worked, cleaned, shopped for cat food, and now I’m here.”
“Sad.”
“Yes. No naps.”
“Sad,” he said again, eating treats. “It’s getting dark earlier.”
“I know.”
“What is christmas?”
“It’s a story about three men who can’t find their way out of a paper bag, wandering around, on camels, looking for a woman who had a baby by herself, after riding on a donkey, running away from people who wanted to kill her because she was pregnant and not married.”
“That’s what you celebrate?”
“I don’t, but a lot of people do.”
“No cats in the story?”
“Not a single one.”
“Then what good is it?”
“It was just away for men to take over another pagan holiday, that’s all.”
“I still don’t get it.”
“You’re not alone.”
“What about thanksgiving?”
“A holiday of dead birds, dead native americans and pretty much a celebration of thieving, murder and greed.”
“Wow, you guys are evil.”
“No kidding,” she said. “Do you want more food?”
“No, but a few more treats wouldn’t hurt.”
“Okay.”
“You know that plants poison each other, right?”
“Yes.”
“Trees aren’t always nice either,” he said.
“I know.”
“Everyone is fighting for survival. This is a deadly place.”
“It is,” she said, petting him.
“Seems wrong.”
“To me too.”
“It could be nice here, but it never will be.”
“I know.”
“Too bad.”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to take a nap now.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
She kissed his face and ran her hands down his side. “So much.”
“I know.”
“See you tonight?”
“Mmmmhnn,” he muttered, as his eyes closed and his purrs grew louder.
“Sweet dreams,” she whispered, as she picked up her tote bag and tip-toed away.
Sleep…a poem
in our dreams
we can fly
or be superheroes
we can see
elephants
dragons
and
airplanes
castles
and
rocket ships
dreams
are filled with
stories
and sometimes
with friends
dreams can be visits
home
to another time
and place
one we remember
when when we are
are drifting
when we are
not fully
here
a different home
one as real
as the one
we know
when we are
awake
in our dreams
whether we remember them
or not
we can drop into
parallel lives
catch
glimpses of the past
and the future
some dreams
can be scary
so it’s a good thing
we always have a sword
at our side
some dreams are fun
but the thing to keep in mind
is that we all have them
each and every one of us
dreams
are part of being human
Photo: Annie Spratt
Unsplash
Stones…words
a couple of weeks ago
I was walking with three other people
but I was lagging behind them
because there were stones
just like these
on the ground next to me
and all I wanted to do
was pick them up
Photo: Scott Webb
Pexels
King Arthur…the story
King Arthur
loved
and remembered
by all
as if he actually existed
and maybe he did
who can say
what’s real
and what is not
people still write
to Sherlock
asking for help
Arthur
a good man
a King of the people
a round table
where all were equal
a table of men
in a world of men
Excalibur
a powerful sword
pulled from a stone
Merlin
a wizard
with plans of his own
stealing the newborn
from the arms of his mother
Guinevere
the lover
Sir Lancelot
the betrayer
Morgana
the sister
Mordred
the traitor
the Grail
the quest
the Knights
the King’s men
Avalon
protected peace
Nothing has been left out of this story of love, goodness, greed, desire, jealousy, power, violence, betrayal and death. The story is a complete reflection of our world. We recognize it deep down inside ourselves. That’s why the story of Arthur never dies…it’s our touchstone, whether we know it or not.
Photo: Pixabay
Humans…
each person
a separate world
living a separate life
that no one else
can ever understand
slaves to a system
run by the rich
for their own benefit
where
is the
rebellion
Photo: Oleg Sergeichik
Unsplash
Rethinking Life 
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