Page 17

CHAPTER 17

The cat went here and there

And the moon spun round like a top,

And the nearest kin of the moon

The creeping cat looked up.

Black Minnaloushe stared at the moon,

For wander and wail as he would,

The pure cold light in the sky

Troubled his animal blood.

Minnaloushe runs in the grass

Lifting his delicate feet.

Do you dance, Minnaloushe, do you dance?

When two close kindred meet,

What better than call a dance?

Maybe the moon may learn,

Tired of that courtly fashion,

A new dance turn.

Minnaloushe creeps through the grass

From moonlit place to place,

The sacred moon overhead

Has taken a new phase.

Does Minnaloushe know that his pupils

Will pass from change to change,

And that from round to crescent,

From crescent to round they range?

Minnaloushe creeps through the grass

Alone, important and wise,

And lifts to the changing moon

His changing eyes.

—William Butler Yeats, “The Cat and the Moon”

SAWDUST

Whitney had been spending entirely too much time on her computer lately and too little time cuddling or playing with Sawdust. But he could rectify that right now.

As Whitney sat at the kitchen table, her eyes locked on the screen, he strode onto the keyboard and plunked his furry little hindquarters down. The computer emitted beeps and boops under him. As expected, Whitney snatched him from the table and cuddled him to her chest, whispering sweet nothings into his ear and digging her fingers into that sweet spot under his chin. He turned his chin one way. A little bit there. He turned his chin the other way. That side now. Really get in there. He tilted his head back. Under there. That’s it. Aaaaaah.