My Conversation With the Cat

My Conversation With the Cat

While my wife and I sipped morning tea I told my cat she was beautiful.

She squinted her eyes, flicked one ear, dropped to the floor, walked across the back of the ottoman, her tail the only thing visible, looking like a curved round feather moving along the edge, turned right then, right again slowly walking past us, her eyes slightly squinted.

She stopped, pointed the tip of her tail at the ceiling, drew three circles, dropped it to the left, sashayed it right then straight up before sitting faced away from us, her ears pointed back.

Since I understand cat language quite well, I told my wife about the language of cats.

“A cat’s thought vibrations connect to their tails the same way our thoughts link with our voices.’’

Pause …

“If you focus on their nuances, stop your mind from chattering (cats of course don’t think in terms of words) their thoughts can be understood quite easily.”

I looked at my wife. “The cat and I have conversations all day long.”

I looked at the cat.  One ear twitched.

My wife, who had been listening quietly, caught me off guard saying, “ARE YOU MAKING THIS STUFF UP!?”

For years I had observed my cat’s behavior but had not read a single word to support my claims.

All I could say was, “Well I guess so but … ”

And that’s when I found myself sitting alone with the cat.

 

My Conversation With the Cat: Again

While my wife and I sipped morning tea I told my cat she was beautiful.

She squinted her eyes, flicked one ear as if to say she understood.

She dropped to the floor turned and walked across the back of the ottoman,  her tail looking like a curved round feather suspended in air, turned right at the far corner then right again where she slowly walked past where we sat, her eyes slightly squinted until stopped, she pointed the tip of her tail at the ceiling, drew three circles, dropped it to the left, sashayed it right then straight up again before sitting faced away from us, her ears pointed back.

Since I understand cat language quite well, I decided to tell my wife about the language of cats.

“A cat’s thought vibrations connect to their tails the same way our thoughts link with our voices.’’

I paused.

“So, if you focus on their nuances, stop your mind from chattering (cats of course don’t think in terms of words) their thoughts can be understood quite clearly.”

I looked at my wife and said, “You are aware that the cat and I have conversations all day long aren’t you?”

I looked at the cat.  One ear twitched.

My wife … who had been listening quietly, caught me off guard saying, “ARE YOU MAKING THIS STUFF UP!?”

For years I had observed my cat’s behavior but had not read a single word to support my claims.

All I could say was, “Well I guess so but … ”

And that’s when I found myself sitting alone with the cat.

The Crane IV

I moved closer, wrapped both arms beneath the crane’s belly and lifted it out of the water.  I carried it up the side of the swale to the gravel road, turned right onto the black top where I began moving toward the cottage with the bird in my arms trying to see over the top of its back, feeling its wing feathers against my chin and the side of my face.

I stayed focused on the road ahead, straining to keep the bird’s talons from scraping the black top, oblivious of the passing cars, their honks, stupid comments and questions.

The dog trotted along keeping a wary out for my safety while the bird, its neck fully extended gazed at the passing trees and empty spaces along the side of the road.

Walking along, I pictured myself nursing the bird back to health; feeding it, loving it, giving it life once again, then watching it fly away free to ride the wind currents once again aware of its world with a renewed desire to live.

I had watched my mom raise 6 baby squirrels from the time they were hairless, no bigger than her pinky finger feeding them every 4 hours 24 hours a day for weeks until they grew and became such a nuisance, all six of them climbing over her body like she was a small tree, tangling her hair, knocking her glasses off, that she finally set them free.

Surely she would help me rescue the bird.

I had high hopes for my friend the great Crane, who had allowed me to gaze into its eye and be part of its life.

Little did I know what was in store for both of us.

continued …

Tea With the Cat and Me

While my wife and I

sipped morning tea I told my

cat

she was

beautiful …

…..

the cat

squinted her eyes, flicked her

ear

(telling me she understood)

then,

dropped to the

floor

turned and

walked across the

back of the

ottoman she had been

 lying on …

(her tail moving along the edge like a curved round feather suspended in midair)

turned the corner, walked

past us

stopped …

then …

pointing her tail at the

ceiling

drew three circles,

dropped it to

the

left …

sashayed it

right then

straight up where she

twitched it

two or three times

before

lowering herself to the

floor …

… facing away from us …

with the

tips of her

ears

pointing back

(… toward where we were sitting … )

…..

 since I understand cat

language quite

well …

i decided to tell my

wife about the

language of

cats …

…..

 “ … cat’s thought vibrations link up to their

tails

the same way our

thoughts link with our vocal

chords … ,” i said …

…..

“… if you focus on the

nuances of their

behavior

(watching their tails closely)

and

stop your mind from

chattering

… (cats of course don’t think using words) …

their

thoughts

can be

understood quite

easily …

i have conversations with the

cat

all day

long … !”

…..

i looked over at the

cat …

one ear twitched …

…..

my wife

who had been listening

 quietly …

caught me off guard

blurting …

” … ARE YOU MAKING THIS STUFF UP … ?”

*****

for years I had

observed my cat’s

behavior …

but hadn’t read anything

to

support my

claims …

…..

all I could say was,

“wull I guess so but …”

…..

and that’s when I found myself

sitting alone with the

cat …..