Tuesday, July 29, 2008

This cat needs a name

It was not out of nowhere that she appeared -- to say that would not be entirely accurate, because we all have an origin. But not all things which come into being have the same effect upon the beholder, and so it is that we designate phrases to convey our shock and awe and gratitude for a thing's existence, and so it was last evening that the creature pictured above appeared out of nowhere, a scrawny thing that looked like the creation of a 7th grade crafts student, a few tufts of hair stuck to a bowl of clay fresh out of a kiln.

I thought she would retreat from my advances but she did not. I placed a few fingers on her back and felt her spine, jagged and improper, and still she did not move. Neither did she supplicate. She tried mewing but no sound came out, and it was then that I hopped back onto my bike and wheeled to the nearby convenience store to buy some food (Whiskas, 39 RMB -- not cheap).

She was gone when I returned. I circled around the yard, dawdled, fed a white cat instead, then spied her again, lying at the same place. As I went to her another white cat, also probably female, eyed us through the grass, its timidity outweighing its hunger.

Another cat, also nameless

For 15 minutes today I crouched on the first step, waiting for her to follow. She squeaked meekly. The skin of her belly drooped. Goo flowed out of her right eye. She needed help, but she would not take the first step. I picked her up and weighed her lightness, studied her complexion. I wanted to take her in, wipe off the dust, set her back in flow with the world. That first step, however, it was up to her to take. And she did not. She may not be fit for the wild, not like Aegian, the playful and shameless cat with bi-colored eyes, not like Tammy, the white female who keeps tight watch of her heart, but she would not be so quick to trust what was not her kind. She would not follow, no matter how patiently I waited.

I wonder what hardships await. I wonder if she knows. More importantly, I wonder if she'll adapt, or cope, or endure. Endure, yes. We all do, eventually, learn the world and let the world learn from us. Or we die, nameless and mute.