Tuesday, April 13, 2010

How my Cat will Die....A Children's Fairytale

Nearly the point of exhaustion. Obsessed with death. Lately I’ve been unable to look at even my cat without conjuring up, and then existing within, some historic timeline–starting with the cat’s arrival in my life and then gelling into a sort of montage, including highlights of what she used to be and do.

She used to play Fetch! In her youth, a master at finding balls, and
holding them in her mouth as she dainitily trotted back. She would only go for those aluminum balls, though. I’ve always thought (but never confessed) that clearly this had something to do with the fact that her natal Sun is in Aquarius. They love all things silver.
My Aquarian kitty. She could hear the aluminum crinkling some 20 yards to the fore, and come running. But alas, no longer a kitty.
There are various other scenes I replay, often for some unavoidable reason involving the different litter boxes and their respective surroundings that she has shat into over the years. Sigh.

It bothers me how her eyes have been dulled by time--less vibrant, less acute. And ultimately the timeline will end with her death. The imagining of all forms of that scenario: like for example, will I find her one day, just a little lump that I assume is sleeping?


  1. I'm thinking the same thing with Jasper these days (sans litter box and aluminum balls). Her black spots are almost all gray and she sleeps more than she used to. She can still run faster than me though - she was doing laps around the yard the other night like a pro. I find it interesting how some cultures (like many native american cultures) believe in animal spirit guides. I think Jasper will be mine when she is gone! And maybe Cleo will be yours.

  2. Aaaw, thank you. Sometimes I think animals are lucky for how long they spend on Earth. It's enough. I want her to always be with me, but I wouldn't want her to get stuck with me if she wanted to evolve into something else. Lately, I feel like Woody Allen with my level of self-effacement.

    Jasper, calm? Never! She must be dreaming of a chase.

    And they start to smell a bit, is that their organs or constant flatulism?