Email me if you have something to say. I like you.

 

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Scary Cat

I'm a little bit scared of cats. I used to have a recurring dream that a cat was wrapped around my head and I couldn't remove it, because it was as strong as the Incredible Hulk. It was normal cat-sized, but really, really strong. The cat on my head was more annoying than painful and the dream was highly irritating. According to this article, cats in dreams usually represent yourself or someone close to you. Does that mean I feel suffocated and annoyed by myself? Could be. I haven't had that dream in years, but I'll probably have it tonight.

There is a gray cat who lives in our neighborhood. The gray cat thinks he lives at our house, because he hangs out there all the time, staring at us. We don't feed him or pet him or even acknowledge him, but he is stalking us.

At first, he just hung around the yard, staring at us as we came and went. He progressed to observing us through the glass back door. Last week, emboldened by who knows what, he actually came into our house when one of the kids left the front door open. I'm scared of cats, so I made O pick him up and put him outside. A day or so later, I walked by the closed front door and he was on the porch, vigilant. He stared at me through the panes and wouldn't look away. I hurried out of the room before he could steal my soul. Yesterday, he had his paws on the bottom pane of the door and was staring into the living room, waiting for me. Again, he wouldn't look away. I boldly approached the door and made a face at him through the glass. He ran away, after scoffing at my stupid face.

It dawned on me that I should take a picture of him, so people will believe me. I went and sat in front of the door with the camera, hoping he would return, but he did not. I will be sitting there again today at some point. It's kind of nice.

In my darkest moments (which aren't all that dark), I think the cat is a reincarnation of one of my dead ancestors. And because I'm paranoid, I think the ancestor disapproves of my lazy lifestyle. Alternately, I think the cat is just a cat who wishes he was a tiger and wants to eat my family. That psycho cat needs cat therapy, which reminds me of something the X-Man said when he was about two.

We were in the car and he was in a foul mood, whining away in his car seat. I started babbling to distract him.

"Oooh! Look at the big truck! Look, a bird! Hi, pretty bird! Look at that - that's the Cat Clinic! That's a doctor's office, just for cats!" The whining stopped. Suddenly interested, he asked,

"That's a doctor? Just for cats?"

"Yes," I answered, relieved that I had hit on something that rendered him speechless. We traveled in silence for several glorious minutes. I glanced back, thinking he had fallen asleep, and saw him staring out the window, tiny brow furrowed, contemplating this new information. Finally, he spoke.

"But, how do the cats open the door?"

I wonder if the Cat Clinic does psychotherapy? Stalker kitty could use it to deal with his fixation on our family.

Namasté, y'all!

2 comments:

EK said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
EK said...

Chesey "Chesapeake Bay" Michael Jackson has returned. Believe it. That cat had attitude because he knew he wasn't ever really going away. And Mary Jane laughed and laughed because she knew the same thing.