The Conversation…

“So?” said the cat.

“So, what?” she asked, putting food in front of him.

“It was a good easter party, in spite of the fact that there were no live chickens or bunnies.”

“I told you there are never going to be live anything’s at the parties…EVER.”

“A cat can dream, can’t he?”

“I guess, but it’s a dream that’s never going to come true.”

“And whose fault will THAT be?”

“I heard that pumpkin is good for cats, so this is a new pumpkin and chicken dinner.”

“Gaak, gaak, blaa.”

“How can you throw up before you even try it?”

“Don’t say the “p” word again, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Why?”

“It’s disgusting, that’s why.”

“Fine.  I’ll give it to the others.  I’m sure they’ll like it.  A lot of cats love it and you can stop pretending that you’re going to hack up a lung now.”

“I’m not sure it was a good idea to have read my book to everyone at the party.”

“Why not?  They seemed to enjoy it.”

“The Queens were all over me, telling me I didn’t know my tail from my paws, when it came to kittens.  They said I’m a MALE and should keep my nose out of their business.”

“They’re right,” she said, nodding.

“I told them I would remove the chapter and either leave it out of the book entirely, or they could write whatever they wanted to write and I would add that.”

“What did they say?”

“They laughed.”

“I get that,” she said.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I think we should put the book on hold for awhile,”  he said, eating the last of the dry food.

“Good idea.”

“I need to do some research and…”

“Research on cats?”

“No.  On how to get celebrity endorsements.”

“Ah.  Good luck with that.”

“I’m thinking Ryan Reynolds or Keanu Reeves.  If they aren’t available, I’m going to ask James Bond.  And I may have to do some rewriting and tweaking here and there.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Really?”

“I don’t think you can afford any of those people.”

“Afford them?”

“You’ll have to pay them. you know.”

“Why?”

“You’ll be hiring them to work for you.”

“Not really, I’ll be giving them an opportunity to work for me and do good things for cats.  Ryan does a lot of fun and crazy things and Keanu loves animals. I don’t know about the Bond guy.”

“Let me know how that turns out,” she said.

“You’ll know before I will,” he said.  I don’t have a mailing address.  I’m a free spirit, so when you write the invitation to be a spokesperson, they will respond to your address.”

She started at him.  “I brought you a feather on a string,” she said, pulling it out of her tote bag.

“Why?  Either bring me a bird or forget about it.  What do you expect me to do with a feather?”

“This,” she laughed, as he jumped into the air to catch it.

“Oh, you brought a feather,” said Jinx, rubbing against her foot.  “I liked the food.  Was that pumpkin?”

“Gaak, gaak…”

“Oh.  Sorry,” said Jinx, watching his friend gag.  “I shouldn’t have said the “p” word.”

“Well,” she said, “I’m going home to scrub the back porch, so it’s nice and clean for all of you.  I’ll wash your beds and it will be so nice.  Since it’s warming up, it will be easier to keep things fluffy and clean.”

“Thank you,” said Jinx.  “You’re very good to us.”

“I love you,” she said.  “Each and everyone of you.”

“We love you too,” said Jinx, purring loudly.

“Buy you love me best, right?” asked the cat.

“Just tell him yes,” whispered Jinx, “or he’ll be crabby for days.”

“Of course, I love you best,” she said, kissing him and scratching his ears.  “I’ll see both of you tonight.”

“Yes,” said Jinx.  “I’m looking forward to the new beds.”

“And what about you?” she asked the cat.

“I’ll probably stop by to check things out,” he said lazily.

“Well, enjoy your naps,” she said, gathering her things.  “See you later.”

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“

“I want to make some changes to the book.”

“How many changes?”

“What difference does it make?  Sylvia Beach did it for that Irish guy.”

“I’m not Sylvia Beach, and I seriously doubt that you’re Irish.”

“Maybe we should add a car chase.  People seem to like car chases.”

“The wind is fierce out here,” she said, shivering.

“Bad segue.”

“I bought lots of sardines for the party.”

“So, what you’re saying is that the book is a no-go.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get an ISBN number.”

“No.  It’s not a whole book.”

“It would be, if you’d take the pictures, and add a car chase.”

“Would cats be chasing the car?”

“Yes,” he said.

“That might not be a bad idea,” she admitted.  “A herd of cats on rooftops and…”

“Herd?  A herd of cats?  It’s a herd of cows, not cats.”

“Sorry.”

“Do I look like a bovine?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Turn your head to the side.”

“That’s not funny.”

She heard Jinx snicker under the bushes.

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Excuse me?”

“A boyfriend.  A male, you know, one of those guys who brings you flowers on Valentine’s Day, if he knows what’s good for him.”

“I don’t want one.”

“Why not?”

“I like being alone.”

“I like this turkey,” he said.  “You can bring it again.”

“I like it too,” said Jinx, still hiding.

“I’m glad you both like it.”

Jinx came out and sat by her foot.  “How man books have been written by a cat?”

“None that I know of,” she said, petting him.

“Wouldn’t that make his book special?  Isn’t that a hook, to get people interested?”

She closed her eyes.  “Fine.  I’ll see what I can do.”

“Oh, for him, you’ll see what you can do, but not for me,” snarked the cat.

“I’m going home,” she sighed, standing up.  She kissed him and petted him, then kissed and petted Jinx.  “See you guys later.”

When she was gone, the cat turned to Jinx and said,  “Nice one.”

Jinx smiled.  “Thanks.”

Then they both curled up and went to sleep.

 

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“So what did Oprah say?”

“Nothing.  I told you I wasn’t getting in touch with her,” she said, dishing out his food.

“Like I said, you’re a terrible agent.”

“I’m NOT your agent and besides, Oprah would want her face on the cover.”

“What?”

“Just eat and I’ll read the Introduction to you.”

“Why would she want her picture on the front of a cat book.”

“It’s just the way she is.  She likes attention, I guess.”

“Then don’t call her.”

“I wasn’t going to call her.”

“Who else can we get to promote my book?”

“A pet store?” she snickered, putting treats on the cement.

“Not funny.”

“It is, kind of.”

“How do you like the new chapters?”

“They definitely add a lot, but it’s still rather thin to be called an actual book.”

“Did you add pictures?”

“I didn’t even take pictures.”

“I may have to hire someone else,” he said. flatly.  “You’re just not trying hard enough.”

“You’re absolutely right.  Hire someone else.”

“Who?”

She started laughing.  “I have no idea.”

“I expected so much more from you,” he said, turning his back on her.

She couldn’t help but smile, as she ran her hand down his soft fur.  “I don’t know anything about getting a book into print.  You could self publish.”

“What does that mean?”

She explained things but he was dissatisfied. Most cats don’t have computers and, therefore, no way to order from Amazon.  They also don’t have credit cards, which is another issue altogether.

“Well, how many cats shop at the few remaining bookstores anyway?” she asked.

“You’d be surprised,” he said.  “We pretty much hang out in bookstores and libraries.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“As long as it’s exactly what I want, I’ll be okay with that.”

“Easter’s next Sunday.  Don’t forget about the party.”

“I’ve told the others.”

“Kitten season is almost here.”

“I know.”

“The vet will be by more often.”

“Good.”

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked, kissing him and rubbing his ears.

“Nothing seems to change,” he said, softly.  “We keep fighting the same battles and going through the same things year after year.  We all hope people will be kinder but we know they won’t be.  A lot of cats are giving up.”

“Is this a ploy to get me to give you live bunnies for Easter?”

“Is it working?”

“Ack!” she said, closing her eyes.

“You know it’s impossible to do research.  Even when you guys have original records, you read them, or access them, through ideas and eyes living in twenty-twenty one.  You can’t possibly understand what people wrote, or lived through, in another time period.  It’s not something anyone can do.  All you do is make it up, or guess.”

“I’m going home,” she said, cleaning up.  “Tell Jinx I love him and his food is under the bushes.”

“You just can’t deal with the truth.  You need to be more open minded.  It’s okay that you all lie to yourselves, as long as you know you’re doing it.”

“No.  It’s not.  Men have always written and lied for their own benefit.  If you read history you wouldn’t even know women or minorities existed, at least not until lately.  History is nothin BUT  a big lie.”

“That’s right, and now there’s more color in your face,” he said, licking his paw.  “I thought you were going to faint.  I bet you’re not eating enough chocolate again.  I can tell, because when you’re low on chocolate I always have to make you angry to get your heart beating again.”

“I love you so much,” she said, rubbing her face against his side.

“Are you sure about that whole Oprah thing?”

“Positive.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

“If you DO,” he said.  “Tell her she can’t be on the cover.”

“Deal,” she said.  “Who will be on the cover?  You?”

“Kittens.”

“Ah.”

“Kittens can sell anything.”

“What will you do with the proceeds from the book?”

“Put it back into the community.  Help more cats.”

“I love you.”

“I know.  We keep talking about that.  I mean it’s nice to hear, but I know you love me.  How could you not love me?  I lovable, right?”

“Right,” she said, kissing him again and again.  “You’re letting me kiss you more often.”

“I know you can’t help yourself, so I figured, why not…just let her do it and get it over with.”

She grinned.  “Smart cat.”

“The smartest,” he purred.

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“I transcribed your notes for the book.”

“Good.  How did you like it?” asked the cat.

“I didn’t like the gory parts,” she said, making a face and shivering.

“The cats will like it.”

“How many cats do you think will buy and read your book?”

“No idea.  Maybe Oprah will invite me on her show.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure, why not?  How many cat’s write books anyway?”

“That’s a good point,” she agreed.

“I’m sure it would up her ratings.”

“Maybe.”

“Trust me.”

“It’s not very long,” she said, holding up the pages.

“I cut out the filler, and once we add photographs and a fantastic cover, it will great.”

“Photographs?”

“Yes.  You have to take picture of all the cats, then we’ll add them to the book.”

“I think this is becoming MY book,” she signed.

“It’s hard for me to take pictures.  You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, but maybe that’s a reason not to write a book.”

“Wow.  Are you too busy to help out a friend?”

She ground her teeth.

“Are you grinding your teeth?”

“Maybe,” she admitted.

“How many chapters are there?”

“Two.  Hunting and Catching And all the Other Stuff.”

“Maybe we should add some more.”

“Such as?”

“Grooming and one about kittens.”

“Okay,” she said.  “Those are probably good ideas.”

“Call Oprah.”

“No.”

“I can’t do it.”

“No.”

“Write her a letter and add my photo.”

“No.”

“Fine.  Do you know where she lives?”

“I do not and no, I won’t find out.”

“You’re a terrible agent.”

“I’m not your agent.”

“Well, that’s good, because you suck at it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Have you found a publisher yet?”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Then how will it get published?”

“Beats me,” she sighed, cleaning up the dishes.

“Are you saying that I went through all the trouble of making a book and it’s not going to go anywhere?”

“First of all, you simply laid here and told me what you wanted to say.  I did everything else.  So, it’s not as if you put a lot into it.”

“You disappoint me.”

“I’m okay with that,” she said, grinning at him.  “I disappoint myself sometimes.”

“You should be more aggressive.”

“I’m very aggressive, that’s why I disappoint myself.”

“You have it backward.”

” I agree.”

“Then stop being silly,” he said.

“Okay.”

“Get the book published.”

She laughed, kissed him, rubbed his ears, picked up her tote bag and left.

“I love you,” she said.

“I know,” he whispered.  “Google publishers, when you get home.”

 

 

The Conversation…

“What’s with all the rabbit stuff in your house?”

“Easter is coming,” she said.

“And?  Are you going to give us bunnies for party favors?”

“Yes, but not live ones.”

“You’re going to give us dead rabbits?”

“No, I’m going to give you catnip rabbits. Easter is a time for candy and plastic egg hunts, jelly beans and catnip bunnies.”

“What’s wrong with you?” she asked, shaking his head.

“Nothing’s wrong with me.”

We want LIVE rabbits.”

“We are not having this conversation.”

“You might not be, but I am.”

“Then, you can have it by yourself.”

“Is it true that you went out and bought two huge dark chocolate candy bars and a whole one right away?”

“I was…deficient in chocolate, so I was helping myself. Besides, dark chocolate is good for a person’s heart.”

“Wow.  Your heart must be in great shape.”

“At least I didn’t eat the whole thing in the store.  I’ve done that before,” she sighed.  “A huge bar, and then I just scan the bar code and move on.  They have lots of chocolate eggs at easter, that’s another reason to celebrate.”

“Cats can’t eat chocolate.”

“I know,” she said, moving next to him.  “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Why?  It’s no big deal.”

She started at him and bit her lip.  “I can’t imagine being without it. If chocolate was removed from our lives, women would…be…DANGEROUS.”

“That might not be a bad thing,” said the cat, biting his tail.

“You’re right.  Women wouldn’t stand for the way they’re treated, if chocolate went away.”

“There would be a lot of dead bodies,” snickered the cat.

“Indeed,” she said, dreamily.  “Men would fear us.”

“I wouldn’t,” he said, rolling onto his back.  Not for a minute.”

She kissed him.

“Was the chocolate candy good.”

She closed her eyes.  “It was.”

“Sounds a little like catnip.”

“They’re a lot alike,” she said, rubbing his ears.

“It will be kitten season soon.  You’ll have to step up your game.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

“How should I know?  Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“How old do I look?”

“Four.”

“Four?”

“Yes.  That’s my best guess.”

“I don’t get it.  So what?”

“No reason,” she said, petting him.  “Just wondering, like I said.”

“That’s what’s wrong with your species.  You are always thinking about things that don’t matter or make sense.  I think you have too much time on your hands.”

“Maybe.”

“No maybe about it,” he said, rolling onto his side.

“You’re letting me pet you a lot more now.”

“Yeah, well, it makes you happy.”

She kissed him.  “I didn’t think you cared whether or not I was happy.  I thought you liked it.”

“Oh, please,” he snorted.

She smiled.  “I know you’re far too tough for that kind of thing.”

“Got that right,” he said, licking his paw.

“Say hi to Jinx for me.  Tell him I love him.”

“Whatever,” he said.

“Do you like the new treats?”

“I ate all of them, didn’t I?  Yes.  They were good.  I like the one’s that look like tiny fish.”

“I’ll pick them out for you next time.”

She kissed him again and again and whispered sweet kitty things into his neck.  “I’m crazy about you,” she sighed.  “You’re so sweet.”

“Sweet?  Did you just say that I was sweet?”

“Oh, sorry.  I meant tough.  You’re so tough and strong.”

“You better believe it,” he said, huffily.

“Enjoy your nap,” she said, picking up her tote bag and walking away.

He watched her go and then curled up and started dreaming.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“I read the play you wrote.  The one about the babies and white guys.”

“And?” she asked.

“There weren’t any cats in it.”

“Cats are a given,” she said.

“What does that mean?  People are just supposed to know cats exist and are in the play?”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t work for me,” he said.

“Then you need to write a play of your own.”

“And not mention humans, just let you imagine them?”

“Yes.”

“Can I borrow your computer?”

“Of course. You can use it tonight, when you come over.”

“Okay,” he said, stretching.

“I look forward to reading your work.  What’s it going to be about?”

“Cats.”

“Besides that.”

“There is no besides that.”

“I should have known that.”

“Yes.  You should have.”

“Why do you have grit all over your coat?” she asked, running her hand down his back.

“Jinx and I were rolling on the sidewalk.”

“Do you want me to brush it off?”

“What do you think?” he snarked, moving away from her hand.

“Just trying to help,” she said.

“You know,” he said, “now that the weather is getting nicer, you might want to plant some nip in pots, on your back porch.”

“Already thought about it,” she said.  “It’s still too early for planting, but when the time is right, I’ll do it.  I have some in the apartment, but it gets eaten immediately.”

“It’s good stuff.  The grass is nice too.”

“Glad you like it.”

“You’re not too bad for a human.”

“Wow!  I hardly know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.  But did you bring more treats?”

“I did.”

“The cats in the alley go through them pretty fast, so if you could leave a bit more they would be happy about it.”

“I’ll stop on my way home and give them a lot more.  I just didn’t want them to get sick, or not eat the food because they ate too many treats.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“Good to know.”

“You seem in a better mood.”

“Maybe.  I guess never turning on the TV helps.”

“I’m sure it does.”

“I’ve been reading a lot.”

“Much better for you.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“I worry about you.”

“Why?”

“The streets are dangerous.”

“I can handle myself.  You don’t need to worry.”

She nodded.  “I can’t help it.  Love can be a funny thing.”

“Yeah.  That’s true.  It can be.”

“I’ll set up the computer for you, so you can have some privacy.”

“Okay.  You may need to edit things a bit.”

“Sure,” she said.  “I’ll leave Jinx’s food here.  Tell him I said hi and that I love him.  Be sure he comes with you tonight.”

“He might be on patrol, but I’ll let him know.”

She bent over and kissed him, rubbed his ears, then put her head against him and listened to him purr.

“You make me happy,” she whispered, kissing him again.

“Whatever,” he said, closing his eyes.  “See you tonight.”

 

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“Isn’t it wonderful outside?” she asked, happily.  “Spring is in the air.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Yes.  What do you call it?”

“The return of the birds,” he snickered.

“Not funny.”

“Depends on who you are,” he said.  “Chipmunks, all kinds of things are waking up.”

“Chipmunks are adorable, leave them alone.”

“Sure,” he cackled.  “I will.”

“The vet said that everyone she has seen looks pretty healthy.”

“Nice.”

“Yes.  It is,” she said, putting out plates of food and treats.

“I heard the christian right wing is amassing followers to overthrow the government in the next election.”

“I heard that as well.”

“If it happens you’ll have to leave the country.”

“I know.”

“Forever.”

“Yes. Forever.”

“Your forever isn’t that long,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, how much longer can you live, right?”

“I…”

“You’re not getting any younger”

“I was in a good mood before I got here,” she sighed.

“That’s nice.  You’re usually not in a good mood.”

“I wonder why,” she chuffed.

“You take life too seriously, that’s why.  I think I told that to you before.  You need to be more cat like.”

“You mean sleep all day and live off the land, or the nice people who put food out for you?”

“Like Ms Lester?  She’s nice.  I don’t think she has long for the world either.  But she takes care of the little ones and the Queens.  She names everyone and rocks the kittens on her lap, if they’ll let her.  She sings to them.”

“That’s sweet.”

“I think she’s a thousand years old.”

“No one alive is a thousand years old,” she laughed.

“Why is that?”

“We live on a planet where things constantly break down and go back to the earth.  We pretty much fall apart and rot.”

“Wow.”

“Well, it’s true,” she said. “It’s stupid, since there’s no reason for it. Not really.  But that’s the way it is. You can do everything right and it won’t matter a single bit. Death is right there cackling at the newborns, telling them it’s just a matter of time and their little dogs too.”

“I thought you said Death was one of the good guys.”

“She is.  She ends suffering, which never should exist in the first place.  She ends boredom, pain, misery and all the ugliness that’s here.  She is one of the good guys.  It’s just that all of that stuff seems unnecessary.”

“Then why is it here?”

“Apparently a lot of people like it.”

“That’s sick.”

“Most definitely.  This is a sick prison planet, called hell, only with flowers and pretend niceness. That’s a big part of the torture, thinking things could be different, knowing they never will be.  Kind of like the pony ad the carrot.”

“What?  A carrot?”

“Never mind,” she said, unwrapping some new treats.

“Were you ever a happy person?” he asked, rolling over.

She thought about it.  “I think I am a happy person.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Our definitions of happy must be different.”

“I believe the key to life is to not be afraid.  I think fear ruins a lot of lives.  And people are usually afraid of things that will never happen.  I don’t know if that’s true, but I try never to be afraid of anything, because I hate whoever thought up this bloody game, and I want to be in perfect shape to kill whoever it is, once I’m dead.”

“You said that before.”

“Yes.  It’s my big dream.  That’s why I can’t stand the fact that people who have near death experiences say that when they’re dead for a few minutes everything is all about love.  Makes me want to barf.  Talk about being drugged and manipulated.”

“You’re a little strange, you know that don’t you?” he said, licking his shoulder.

“And?”

“Nothing.  Just sayin’,”

It’s absolutely impossible to accept all that love garbage, and not believe that whatever is there can’t fix the suffering so many people go through here.  Why wouldn’t they help?  Screw that.  This game sucks and the things behind it have to be drugging us when we exit the game, just so we CAN’T kill them.  I need to find a way to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“I like that you’re determined.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re kind of violent, you know that, right?”

“Another insightful observation?”

“Pretty much.”

She laughed and kissed him.  “I’m putty in your paws,” she said.

“I know.”

“Everyone is violent.  This is a violent place.  You can be violent in thought, word or deed.  You’re violent,” she said, looking at him.”

“I’m a cat.  Cats are violent, or they can be.”

“I’m a human. I win.  I have weapons and hatred.  You don’t have either of those things.  You just do what you have to to survive.  Humans torture and kill for fun and money.”

“You really are sick puppies,” he signed.

“You have no idea.”

“Why do yo stay here?”

“I think about that, now and then,” she said.  “Because of you, a couple of people and books and things.  Like I said, I’m basically a happy person and I like to have fun.”

“You’re a dichotomy.”

“Here’s the thing.  In the beginning it’s REALLY DARK.  Then you’re dragged into the light and the game begins for real.  You know lots of stuff, but your body doesn’t work and you can’t speak.  From day one, you’re frustrated and stuffed into a tiny body you have no control over, and that makes you vulnerable to anyone who wants to do anything to you. No escape, no French fries. The stuff you have to eat is disgusting. Most babies don’t have to worry because they have someone nice taking care of them, but that’s not true for everyone.  You grow and FINALLY learn to walk and eat by yourself.  All the crazy things you knew how to do before you got here, along withe your previous knowledge, is trapped inside a brain that doesn’t know the language, or has forgotten it.  Which, really doesn’t matter since your throat isn’t able to let you form words anyway, MAKING SURE YOU DON’T SAY ANYTHING YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO SAY.    So the beginning is one of insanity and massive FRUSTRATION AND STUPIDITY.  After awhile, you slowly begin to doubt yourself and forget where you were before you came to this place and were helpless.  HELPLESS FOR A REALLY LONG TIME. So the minute you start to talk and have fun, you’re sent to school where you’re brainwashed by the culture you live in, or the church you’re sent to, without your knowledge or consent.  You learn a bunch of completely useless things that take a million years to color or memorize.  But if you’re lucky, the school will have a library and you can get lost in books and not have to think about life outside of the stories you read.  Teachers who teach kids how to read are the best teachers in the entire world and deserve medals and statues and parades on a daily basis.  I love all of them.  Anyway, school teaches you white male lies, as well as how to shut up, sit down, raise your hand, and OBEY.  All terrible things, put in place to manipulate people for the rest of their lives.  Being polite is one thing.  That’s not what this is.  Then you’re finally out of school, all of them, unless you’re a minority and kept out of schools on purpose, but by then you’re a million years old and suddenly have RESPONSIBILITY for everything and everyone.  Now life becomes a web of paying bills, having enough money to take care of things and maybe finding a mate.  I’ll just skip all of that and go to the time when you have your first baby.  A baby that will be yours until the day you die, maybe longer, but no one knows for sure.  The worry and concern never stops, because you can’t be expected to take care of a newborn and keep it alive for all those years and then be expected to just turn everything off.  Hey, are you listening to me?”

“He’s sleeping,” said Jinx.  “But I’m listening.”

“I love you,” she said.  “Cats are part of this game so we don’t all kill ourselves.  You know that, don’t you?”

“I do, actually,” he purred.

She hugged him and kissed him.  “You’re so wonderful.”

“Thank you.  Lunch was delicious, by the way.”

“That’s a new grain-free dry food.  I thought it went well with the wet food.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m going to sneak away,” she whispered.  “while he’s asleep.  You guys come over tonight.  I have sardines.”

“Okay.  We will.  Thank you.”

She cleaned up, kissed him again, petted him and left.

Jinx curled up on the step and started dreaming.

The cat rolled onto his back and sighed.  “Humans are insane.”

‘I know,” said Jinx.  “But they have sardines.”

“Good point.”

“Goodnight.”

“Night.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“I heard they’re getting rid of six books by Seuss,” he chuckled.

“Yes.”

“No more Mr. Potato Head either.”

“Right.”

“What do you think will go next?”

“No idea.”

“I saw the kittens on your blog.”

“I always put kittens on my blog.”

“The tuxedo cat was…”

“Cute?”

“Okay,” he said.

“Admit it,” she laughed. “He was adorable.”

“What do you think the world is coming to?”

“The end.”

“Really?”

“Eventually,” she said. “The weather is getting better.”

“It is.  Still cold during the night and morning.”

“But the sun’s out today.”

“Is that enough for you?” he asked.  “You don’t have to live here, you know.  You could live where the sun is out more than 36 days a year.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Why not?”

She shrugged.

“What have you been doing?” he asked.

“Reading.  A lot.”

“I saw the dog on the street art thing.”

“And?”

“Just sayin’.”

“Why do you think we come here, spend all of our time learning things, and then die?”

“Because you’re stupid?”

“Maybe,” she said. “Sometimes it doesn’t make any sense, other than the fact that I can’t stop, which may or may not make any sense at all.”

“What do you guys do that does make sense?” he asked.

“Good point, but this is weird, don’t you think?  No other species studies all the time, reads constantly and…”

“We’d rather play and sleep,” he said.  “We don’t care about reading and writing, although I can do both. Life is to be lived and enjoyed.”

“I enjoy reading,” she said.  “I’m an addict.”

“Do they have a program for that?”

“I don’t think so because we’d all just exchange titles and meet in bookstores for coffee.”

“Problematic.”

“For sure,” she said.  “I stayed up until almost 2 a.m. finishing a 450 page book on Lee Miller, last night and I’m already half way through another one.  It seems weird, even to me and I’m the one doing it.”

“Is there anything you’d rather be doing?”

“No.  Yesterday afternoon, I sat in the kitchen, the sun was pouring through the window, I had a huge mug of tea, and I was happy.”

“So?  What’s the problem?”

“The problem is what is it all for?  We come here, read, learn and die.”

“I don’t know what to tell you except that there are six Seuss books you don’t have to worry about reading.  And why do things have to be for something?”

“Funny,” she snickered.  “About the Seuss books.”

“True,” he said.  “You guys read, especially women, to escape the misery of your lives.  You’re virtually the prisoners of men, so you read about tough women who can kill them. People read about hope and murder because they need both.”

“I see you’re point.”

“When you read you get to live in the world you would like to live in.  You can’t go around killing everyone in real life, but you can in books.  Your cats and other animals can talk to you in books and turn into humans when it’s convenient.  I know you read a million art books but that’s because the art world was different in the past, before art became a commodity.”

“I’m sure that’s a big part of it.  That’s why there are so many different categories of books.  Something for everyone to escape into.”

“Yes,” he said, biting his paw.  “And you humans have forgotten how to live naturally.  You need instructions from other people who don’t know how to live, telling you what to do and how to think.”

“If I look at things more closely, nothing makes any sense.”

“That’s because nothing DOES make any sense.  You constantly work against each other.  Tell me how that makes sense, when you could work together and make the planet amazing.”

“I hate that our bodies get older.”

“The alternative is death.”

“It shouldn’t be.  If we use it we shouldn’t lose it, remember.”

“Just one more lie,” he said.

“Life is full of lies.”

“It is.”

“Do you think I’m a negative person?”

“You mean like on film?  Black and white, or see through like a negative?”

“No, silly.  Someone who thinks of all the bad sides of everything.”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“What’s wrong with that?  You can’t fix things if you don’t face the fact that they’re broken.”

“What if nothing here can ever be fixed?”

“Do you believe that?”

“Pretty much.”

“Look,” he said.  “People are like everything else.  Some of you are born to look away from things and some of you are born to look at things.  It’s not like you have a choice.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Of course not.  You say all you do is learn but none of you actually knows what  you can actually do to make the world a better place.  You’re a joke.  You do things for the wrong reasons, or no reasons.  And stop looking at the stair.  Don’t lay down.”

“Fine,” she sighed.  “But I want to.”

“Fight that urge.”

“I’m going to go.”

“Okay.  See you tonight.”

“Yes,” she said, laying across him, rubbing his ears, listening to him purr.  “I love you so much.”

“Right,” he said.

She scratched his chin and his neck.  “I love you.”

“You’re repeating yourself.”

“Don’t care.  I love Jinx and all of you.”

“Whatever.”

She kissed him again and picked up her tote bag.  “I have sardines for tonight.”

“Excellent,” he said, his eyes already closing.  “You should buy the Seuss books before they’re gone, so you can look back and wonder why you’re all so screwed up..”

She just kept walking.

 

 

 

 

The Conversation…

“The weather’s changing,” said the cat.

“Without a doubt,” she agreed.  “How’s everyone doing?”

“Great.  The vet’s been by and the hot houses you set up, along with the feeding stations and water dishes, have made a huge difference.”

“I’m so happy about that.”

“I looked at your blog.”

“You did?”

“What’s with the pictures of dogs?”

“I thought they were cute,” she said, putting treats down in front of him.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, why?”

“Where are the pictures of cats?”

“I post pictures of cats.”

“Not like you do dogs.”

“Fine. I’ll put more pictures of cats on my blog.”

“I can’t believe we even have this discussion.  What’s wrong with you?” he asked.  “You say you’re a cat person and then you do that.”

“They’re fuzzy and cute.”

“I’m sorry,” hissed the cat.  “Did you just say that dogs were fuzzy and cute?”

“Well, they are.  You liked Toby.”

“Toby was our dog.”

“Well, I’m sure the dogs I post belong to someone.”

“The don’t belong to us.”

“Fine.

“Is this a symptom of that Covid thing?  Losing your mind and sense of loyalty?”

“I haven’t done either of those things.”

“You have and I’m shocked.”

“Really?  I’ve shocked you?” she snickered.  “Point for me.”

“I’m also disappointed in you.”

“No kidding.”

“No.  I’m not kidding.  I thought you were part of us, but I can see that I was wrong.”

“Oh, come on.  It’s just a few pictures.  I don’t even know the dogs.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“I honestly don’t know what will make you feel better,” she sighed.

“More pictures of cats, for starters.”

“Okay,” she said.  ed”How did you see my blog anyway?”

“Someone in the apartment building across the street looks at it.  I was on her windowsill.”

“I thought maybe you had your own computer.”

“Where would I keep it?  Cats don’t normally have things that tie them down and break all the time.  We don’t really have electric bills.  You’re the only species that does those things.  And there aren’t any transgendered cats.”

“Excuse me?”

“Transgendered cats.  We don’t have any.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked around.  No one knew what I was talking about.”

“Maybe they just didn’t know what it meant.”

“Are you saying cats are stupid.”

“Of course not, but perhaps they aren’t as up on things as you are.”

“Well, that’s true.”

“Without a doubt.”

“I’ve been thinking about things and I believe that some idiot found Pandora’s Box and opened it. Hence, the Polar Vortex, the virus, the republicans, and all the rest of the stuff that’s been happening.  It’s as if a madness has driven your kind even crazier than normal.  Look what happened in Texas.  They don’t know anything about electricity.  I bet toads will fall from the sky during the spring and locust will be so thick you won’t be able to walk down the street.”

“I’m not sure what to say.  I thought Tomb Raider II left the box where it was, but maybe someone else found it.  How would I know?”

“I just TOLD you how you would know,” he said.  “Look what’s happening all around you.  The republicans are alive and well, planning their next big coup to overthrow the government and…they’re using the SAME PEOPLE.  People are still dying and…”

“I get it.”

“They are recruiting and widening their base of crazies.”

“You’re making me tired.”

“What is your side doing?”

“No idea.”

“Right.  You think you won and that’s it?  You have to keep building your base, getting more voters on your side and you have to do it for four years.”

“I’m going to lay dow on the stair,” she said, curling up.

“No.  Don’t do that.  Everyone will think you’re dead.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Did someone think I was dead last time I did it?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes you just wear me out.”

“Why, because I tell you what’s going on?”

“Partly.  Yes.”

“What’s the other part?”

“I’m too tired to answer you.”

“Lame.  Really pathetic.  Get up and fight back.”

“If I die on the stair, I want to be cremated and my ashes spread over the lake, okay?”

“Sure.  I’m positive someone will ask me what your final wishes were,” he snapped.

“Good point.”

“Like anyone could even understand me.”

“I said, good point.”

“You have to be a LOT stronger than you are,” he said.  “You’re like a newborn kitten.  Helpless.”

“I am not helpless,” she said, glaring at him.

“Then act like it.”

“I’m going home.”

“That’s right run away,” he said.

“I’m not running away, I’m going to get ready for when all of you come over tonight.”

“Oh.  Okay then,” said the cat.  “You need to embrace the warrior inside you.”

“Oh, sweetie, I carry a big sword and my wings are enormous.  Believe me, my Warrior Goddess is alive and well.”

“You’re going to need her.”

“Tell me about it,” she said, kissing him and rubbing his ears.  “I love you.”

“I know.”

“A lot.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Ego much?”

“No ego,” he said, “Just truth.”

She cleaned up.  Left food for Jinx, and said goodbye.

“Don’t forget to buy sardines,” he meowed after her.

She smiled and waved.

“Weakling, my ass,” she snarked, as she went down the street.

 

 

The Conversation…

“What’s your problem?” asked the cat.

“Are you asking to be polite, or do you really want to know?”

“When have you ever known me to be polite?”

“Good point,” she said.

“So?”

“I’ve been having a debate with someone about the meaning of forgiveness.”

“And?”

“What’s your definition?”

“I don’t have one.  It’s never come up.”

“Well, here’s the thing.  Apparently, and the dictionary definition agrees, forgiveness is for the person who is doing the forgiving, NOT for the person, or whatever is being forgiven.”

“So it’s a selfish and self-serving thing to do?”

“Thank you.  My thoughts exactly.  I always thought forgiveness was for those asking to be forgiven for something they did.”

“And it’s not?”

“Apparently not.  Other people think it’s so the person doing the forgiving can fee better. That doesn’t make any sense to me at all.  Supposedly, if you don’t forgive people, so they can get a free pass and do it again, it will eat you up inside.”

“That’s insane.”

“I agree.  So all the people who forgave the catholic raping priest, who did terrible and unforgivable things to billions of children can be forgiven and not have to worry about anything, so that the people who forgave them can feel better.   I think forgiveness is a way to manipulate and control people.  Like someone who beats, or cheats on their spouse, begs for forgiveness, it’s given and then the deed is done again and again.  It’s a mad cycle and supposedly for the person doing all that forgiving.  It’s absolutely crazy.  So we’ve been talking about it and we can’t agree, not that we have to agree, mind you.”

“You’re actually saying that some people believe that forgiving others, is actually for themselves.  Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“So I could bite you and then you would forgive ME for YOURSELF, so YOU would feel better?”

“Yes.”

“I like it,” said the cat.  “It means anyone can do anything and walk away free.”

“Exactly.”

“And the person doing the forgiving would feel better?”

“I guess.”

“Genius,” laughed the cat.

“Here’s what I think.  I think that forgiving people who don’t deserve forgiveness is what eats at people because they know they were stupid to forgive them and they feel like idiots inside for doing it.  Society expects people, especially women, to forgive everyone and everything, so it sets them up to be used and abused and guilty for what someone else did to them.  They’re told they’ll feel better if they forgive.  The church and state, all male dominated institutions encourage that sick behavior.  Less forgiveness would mean people would have to stop doing bad things.  Forgiveness becomes meaningless, if it’s constant and expected.  It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard of and some people feel saintly because they do it.”

“You guys are amazing,” laughed the cat.  “No wonder your culture is so violent.”

“Right?” she said.

“Does that really work, this whole forgiveness thing?”

“Apparently.”

“And you’re just finding this out now?”

“Yes and to be honest, I’m kind of sorry I found out at all, because it makes me have even less respect for a lot of people.”

“Understandable.”

“So forgiveness is a selfish thing, all about the person doing the forgiving.”

“I guess.”

“Those who need forgiving must be laughing their asses off,” snickered the cat.

“Why wouldn’t they be.  Raping kids, having some of them kill themselves because of what was done to them, and people putting money in the collection box each week to pay for lawyers to get the priests off. Pun intended.  And those guys represent their invisible god.  But their god, being another male, would forgive them, over and over again too, so it always works in their favor.”

“Pun?”

“Never mind.”

“Do you forgive people?”

“For what?  If I did, it would be for them, not me.  Sometimes I let things slide, but that’s about it.  I just walk away from people who bother me.  They have the right to be who they are, so I just leave.  No one needs my forgiveness and that word isn’t part of my vocabulary.”

“Do you ask for forgiveness?”

“Again, for what? I do stupid things but people can walk away from me too.”

“Would you forgive me?”

“For what?”

“Anything?”

“I can’t imagine that you could ever do anything that would need forgiving.  I still don’t even understand the word, or the point.  Either you say, ‘fine, that was mean or stupid,’ or you don’t.”  Forgiving or not forgiving puts power in a person’s hands and that’s just silly.  And it’s really crazy if it’s done for the person who is doing the forgiving.  If someone did something  really bad I wouldn’t forgive him, why would I?  I’d feel like an idiot if I did.  If I dis, I would deserve whatever came next and I’d lose any self-respect I had for myself.  People make mistakes, but if they do something so terrible or hurtful, well, it’s over.  Too much forgiveness is like an illness and the forgiver is the sick one.”

“You don’t really fit in well with others do you,” chuckled the cat.

“Sure I do,” she said.

“I’m betting you just think you do.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Forgiveness is a stupid concept.  It’s like saying awesome.  Overused and pointless, because when you look at it, forgiveness rarely changes behavior.  My friends used to go to confession, lie, make things up, be forgiven, have to say hail Mary’s and they were off the hook.  Meaningless.  It’s all meaningless.”

“So that’s what has you in a weird mood?”

“It’s more than that, but how are the cats all doing?”

“Better.  They like the hot boxes and the vet stopped by again.  Everyone is happier.”

“I’m so glad.”

“For yourself?”

“Everything everyone does if for themselves, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t happy for others as well.  Yes, I’m happy because they’re happy.  I don’t want any harm t come to them and I don’t want them t feel bad, so if they feel better, so do I, because I love them.”

“You’re all so strange.”

“Tell me about it.” she said. “Doesn’t it make you happy to know they’re taken care of?”

“I guess.”

“Same thing,” she said.

“She’s right,” said Jinx.

“Maybe,” said the cat.  “Did you hear the part about forgiveness?”

“I did.”

“What do you think?” asked the cat.

“It’s crazy.”

“Thank you,” she said, petting him.  “Well, I’m off to get more food for the feeders and a couple more electric water bowls.

“Thank you,” said Jinx.

“You’re welcome.  “I love you.”

“I love you too” he said, rubbing against her calf.

“You’re so sweet.”

“Again,” said the cat.  “You’ve never seen him in action.”

“Just ignore him,” she said.  “I think you’re sweet.”

He purred and rubbed against her again.

She got up and kissed the cat, ran her hands over him and kissed him again.  “I love you,” she whispered.”

“I know, and why wouldn’t you.”

“See you tomorrow,” she said, smiling.  “Stay warm, come over and sleep at my place, if you like.”

“Whatever.”

They heard her humming as she walked away.

“You should be nicer to her,” said Jinx.

“She’d think something was wrong with me.”

“She would probably be right.”