on walking the cat

one very cold night

This evening I wanted to take the cat for a walk but right now everything is so cold that it's creaky.

I opened the patio door.

He stopped, sniffed, then leaped two of his lolloping strides outside.

There he stopped for a moment, stretched out and sniffed the air, and then?

He just stood there a little bit longer as he considered. Time was suspended. World's foreign, universes were born and destroyed.

And Trevor?

He pondered.

Everything and nothing was happening at once as Trevor made a decision.

Very clearly he turned and walked back to the door.

There, he paused for a moment as though he wanted to lick himself but thought better of it. He looked at me as if to say, all right, buddy, open the door. I’m done.

I did as I was told.

And then Trevor the cat went went inside to sit on his sister at the cozy spot by the fire.

I've been doing that myself a lot lately. My sister hasn’t been happy at all. She hasn’t appreciated me sitting on her by the fire.

Nah. If I were sitting on my sister, my fingers wouldn’t be typing. They’d be lodged so far and deeply where the sun don’t shine that I could roll up the blinds on the back sides of my eyes.

Lately I’ve been checking out the world the way Trevor checks out the cold. I spend time stepping out into the world, exploring the other humans and their behaviours. After taking a good look around at what’s going on in the world, I turn away and go back inside.

That world of normal people and the news and the social medias? They are cold snow to this old cat’s paws.

Nope. Too cold. Not for me.

I’m embracing life before Zuckerburg turnt the worlds status games up to eleven.

We all reach a point where the wood creaks and it’s so cold that sound itself is frozen.

That when you notice that your paws hurt while that catnip seems really far away.

It’s ok.

Turn away.

Go inside.

Find a cozy place by the fire.

But DO NOT sit on my sister.