Page 4

CHAPTER 4

I.

A cat is strolling through my mind

Acting as though he owned the place,

A lovely cat-strong, charming, sweet.

When he meows, one scarcely hears,

So tender and discreet his tone;

But whether he should growl or purr

His voice is always rich and deep.

That is the secret of his charm.

This purling voice that filters down

Into my darkest depths of soul

Fulfils me like a balanced verse,

Delights me as a potion would.

It puts to sleep the cruellest ills

And keeps a rein on ecstasies

Without the need for any words

It can pronounce the longest phrase.

Oh no, there is no bow that draws

Across my heart, fine instrument,

And makes to sing so royally

The strongest and the purest chord,

More than your voice, mysterious cat,

Exotic cat, seraphic cat,

In whom all is, angelically,

As subtle as harmonious.

II.

From his soft fur, golden and brown,

Goes out so sweet a scent, one night

I might have been embalmed in it

By giving him one little pet.

He is my household’s guardian soul;

He judges, he presides, inspires

All matters in his royal realm;

Might he be fairy? or a god?

When my eyes, to this cat I love

Drawn as by a magnet’s force,

Turn tamely back from that appeal,

And when I look within myself,

I notice with astonishment

The fire of his opal eyes,

Clear beacons glowing, living jewels,

Taking my measure, steadily.

—Charles Baudelaire, “The Cat”

SAWDUST

Sawdust lay on the kitchen table, where Whitney sat with a notebook, a pen, and her laptop. She pulled a small object from her pocket and placed it on the table. Curious, the cat rolled onto his belly and stretched out his nose to sniff the thing. It smelled of metal and decay. He was disappointed it wasn’t edible, though Whitney had already fed him his dinner plus three tuna treats . Maybe it would make a good toy?

He stood and batted it lightly with his paw. It moved a few inches across the tabletop. Aha! It could indeed be played with.

The cat went to bat it harder, hoping to knock it off the table and onto the floor, but before he could make contact, Whitney snatched it up and his paw pushed nothing but air. He slumped back on his haunches. Whitney had been gone since breakfast, and while Sawdust had managed to convince Collin’s cats, Copernicus and Galileo, to engage in a short game of jingle ball, they’d quickly begged off to take yet another nap. Sawdust had kept watch over the house all day, and now he wanted to play, darn it!

Luckily, Whitney sensed that he was feeling frisky. She tore a page from her notepad, wadded it into a tight ball, and sent it sailing into the living room. Sawdust leapt off the table and skittered after it, batting it all the way across the room. Fun!