When a cat goes missing, you put up posters and call shelters
And then you wait.
The waiting is the worst. The not knowing.
Every cat cry, every sound makes you think they’re back.
They’re not.
I walked around until my knee felt full of broken glass.
And walked around some more.
You look everywhere you’ve found them before, but they’re never there.
They’re everywhere but where you look.
So you keep looking.
I saw something. On the sidewalk.
No. It’s just a shirt someone had dropped on their way back from the laundry room.
And walked around some more.
Tag: personal
Myst needs a kitten
Myst has never been alone until now.
She was born into a big litter at a friend’s trailer park.
We were going to take her and her brother, but old Nardo already had his paws full with Bruwyn. Another new kitten was pushing it, so two probably would have killed him.
When Nardo died, she still had Bruwyn, and they cleaned each others ears every day. And they went out hunting and playing in the grass.
Now that Bruwyn is gone, Myst is all alone. She really needs a kitten-friend.
Because I’m sick of cleaning her ears. They taste disgusting.
Laundry Helper
Whenever my wife does laundry, she stacks the folded clean clothes on the bed.
And then, Nardo the orange cat would jump on the bed and roll around on the clean clothes.
Orange cat hair all over everything.
He taught Bruwyn to roll around on the clean laundry, and both of them would shed all over the clothes.
When Nardo was gone, Bruwyn had the laundry duty all to himself.
Now that Bruwyn’s gone, there’s no more laundry assistants.
Myst prefers to roll around in the dirt outside.
Maybe if I tossed all the clean clothes into the dirt…
Nah.
Apology
I check my mail.
She asks me to accept her apology again.
What apology?
I don’t accept apologies that aren’t genuine. And I don’t accept them when the person won’t admit that they made a mistake.
“I’m sorry that you feel hurt by this” is how they usually start things off.
That’s not an apology. That’s an attempt to blame you for catching them doing you wrong.
Don’t accept that bullshit. Tell them no. And don’t trust or forgive them until they get their shit straight, and they set things right.
And never, ever apologize for demanding a real apology.
The Loss Of Hope
Bruwyn didn’t come home Monday night.
We made posters, and we sent his photo to all the shelters and the city pound.
LOST CAT
DOMESTIC SHORTHAIR
BLACK MALE
CHECKERED COLLAR
ANSWERS TO “BOO”
And my phone number.
A neighbor just called me.
He’d finally seen the poster, and he recognized the collar.
He’d seen him by the side of the road.
Dead.
He’d gone back there to get him, but the city had picked up his body.
Closure, they call it.
But even though I know that Bruwyn is dead, I still look in the bushes and around every corner.
Ball Game
I used to really enjoy watching basketball.
Michael Jordan was amazing, and the NBA’s marketing hype was in full swing.
When he took two years off, the Rockets picked up a pair of trophies. But if Jordan hadn’t have walked away, there’s no way he’d have let the Bulls lose to Hakeem and Clyde.
These days, I have no idea who the players are. But then, does it really matter?
Not giving a damn about the players or the teams means that I can just enjoy the game for the game and the spectacle.
And not buy any overpriced crap.
Caller
I called the sports medicine hotline to set up an appointment for my first physical therapy session.
The operator asked me what I needed to work on.
Shoulder
Elbow
Wrist
Fingers
More questions:
Which location?
Referring doctor?
Would October 10th at 2 work for me?
Yes.
It’s going to hurt, she says.
I know. I’m not ready, but I’m ready.
More questions:
My name?
Date of birth?
I tell her.
Oh no, she says. I’m so sorry.
It’s okay. I tell her. I’ll be alright. I’ll get better. Right?
I hang up and sit there… quietly.
Happy fucking birthday to me.
Trust
Some days, when I get home and lay back on the sofa, it takes a while for Bruwyn the cat to join me and drape himself over my leg for a nap.
Other times, I’m barely settled in before I find my leg pinned by a furry purring sack.
Either way, I’m happy to let the cat nap on me.
Until I run out of iced tea. Or need to go to the bathroom.
I feel guilty for making him move, but over time, he comes back to flop over my leg sooner and sooner.
That trust feels even better.
Good Soup
As much as I love the finer things in life, there’s nothing I love more than a simple store-brand can of vegetable soup with a cup of rice for dinner.
No, I won’t pass up a good sushi dinner, or wave away a steak if you’re offering, but there’s just no beating soup and rice on a lazy evening.
Just dump the rice in the rice cooker, add water, and then push a button. An hour later, microwave the soup in a bowl and dump in the rice.
Oh, and don’t forget to call a cab for the two hookers.
Warm
Sometimes, when it’s cold and dark and rainy and windy, I like to put on shorts and a T-shirt and carry the trash out to the dumpster.
It’s a minute walk to the dumpster to drop off the trash, and then a minute back.
Just enough to feel the chill.
Then I slide open the patio door, walk inside, and slide it shut again.
It feels so good warming back up again.
I lay back on the sofa, and I pull the blankets back over me.
It feels even better, to be reminded how good it feels to feel warm.