It didn’t surprise him that he quickly understood the cat they adopted during the pandemic for all he had to do was apply basic feline logic, that everything in her new home was either hers or theirs collectively, it was just that simple. He had come from a place, a life, where there had been hers and theirs, simple. When that life ended, as everyone but him seemed to know it would, he came away with that portion of theirs for which his ex cared least or of which she had grown tired. So he and the cat had a comfortable understanding until more and more of theirs became hers alone.
It is, I think her lips I miss most their butterfly flutter across my cheek then her eyes, almost feline that see within behind walls hastily erected that fall to her sight. It is all of that and the whispered words linking hearts that still echo as she slides into sleep. I cry out to Morpheus my words are swallowed by the drone of the engines that fall as rain into the Sea of Okhotsk to wash onto the shore of Khabarovsk.
As the moon begins it’s slow departure we step carefully out into the receiving night. The neighbor’s black cat looks up at the sky warily, steps around the ladder leaning against the house, and sits and contemplates the number thirteen, though it holds no special place in the feline world, it just seems the thing to do.
As the moon begins it’s slow departure we step carefully out into the receiving night. The neighbor’s black cat looks up at the sky warily, steps around the ladder leading against the house, and sits and contemplates the number thirteen, though it holds no special place in the feline world, it just seems the thing to do.
Yesterday the cat explained at great length that we occupy her house because she loves us, but that we dare not take this status for granted. I scratched her behind her ears to signify my agreement and so she took my simple act of kindness. You get another week she said, purring.
I read a poem today, about a cat and it reminded me, actually the memory of my last cat came to mind, that cats have an innate sense of people, that people utterly lack. It may be that cats are completely unfooled by the masks we wear, or simply that they could care less how we see ourselves, and only measure us by what we offer them. In that sense, of course, they are people, too.
The cat curls on the mat and you assume she is not practicing zazen, that is just something cats are prone to do. Hakuin Ekaku only ascribed such nature to dogs, but perhaps true Buddha nature
is a secret held close by our felines.