Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

The cat is sitting across the room by the open back door. His name is Papi. He’s either orange or a ginger. I’ve never given it much thought.

Smiling, I cross to pet him. He shouts out a plaintive and loud three-syllable meow.

I stop and looked at him. “That was annoying.”

His eyes shift. He’s making a mental note.

That confirms for me, that meow was part of Project Irritation.

I’m still putting Project Irritation together. I believe its overall scope is for the cat to try things and then document how I react. He can then put his findings to use to control my behavior.

I offer this with all seriousness. It’s the only idea that can explain the many meows he’s been employing in the last week.

Besides the Meow Phase of Project Irritation, I believe he’s also testing the limits of how often I will let him in and out of the house. He’s also conducting experiments on me by using differing reactions to his food. No doubt, he’s attempting to steer his food choices by indoctrinating me based on how he reacts to his food. He’s long sussed out that I’m his feeder and care giver.

Now he just needs to study me and take control.

It’s probably part of a more extensive cat project: “How to dominate the world”.

They already have the Internet close to completely in their paws. It’s only a matter of meows before they control the rest.

Ode to Papi

Trying to catch him is like reaching for sushine in the air

He’s so quick, elusive, it’s just not fair.

Passing us in a blaze of light,

He’s a wingless small animal lifting off in flight.

His burst of speed has no rhyme nor reason,

And seems independent of time and season.

Just as we keep wondering why and thinking where,

He comes back with a purr, his tail in the air.

The Third Life

It was a night of dreams. This tale emerged from one.

Death came hard.

He hadn’t expected it. A loud noise behind him made him jump, turn, and stop as he crossed the street. A car raced toward him. He heard it but didn’t see it. The impact was short but hard.

Next that he knew, he was rising from his body, an unseen spirit slicing through the night. Below, his furry ginger body cooled on the asphalt. Stars peered through the dark, moving clouds, witnessing it all.

He was entering the quantum tunnel. Humans enjoy calling it the rainbow bridge. Amusing to him and many floofs but most respected most humans. Humans were often loyal, loving, and fun, and offered pretty good food.

He’d already used two lives, when he was two and five. First one was the stabbing. Loud voices spewed from his people. They wrestled and grunted. Glasses broke. Thumping and crying ensued.

Noises like that scared him. Fireworks. Arguments. Noisy machines.

Refuge in a dark closet among the shoes was sought. He didn’t know what was happening. Didn’t care. He never paid attention to anything not directly affecting him.

Silence fell. Body low, tail lower, he crept out.

His woman was crying on the kitchen floor. Salty snot and tears covered her face. She sagged against the dark wooden cupboards. His man was sprawled a few feet away. Blood expanded around him. A knife rose from his side.

He sniffed her, and then him, identifying anger. Love. Frustration. Pain. Death.

The decision to return the man to life was instantaneous. That wasn’t enough. The fight had shredded his people’s relationship. He not only needed to return the man to life but to a time before the fight.

Sitting, calming, eyes narrowing until they remained as emerald slits, the ginger boy focused on going back in time. A time bubble emerged in his head. He expanded it until it slipped out of his mind and into the air. Once it held him, he thought back through the hours, ignoring the shifting and burbling lights and sounds. Hard to do, because they mesmerized and threatened him.

Exhaustion skinned him after he finished. But worth it. They were happier. He took turns indulging in prolonged naps on their laps, attuning himself to their energies. When they moved, he moved, staying with them, wrapping around their legs to read their energy. As time tipped toward the remembered fight, he bit their arms or ankles, meowed and purred, or chewed their hair until their energy shifted.

“What’s with you, Gingerbread?” they asked, scratching his head and ruffling his fur. “You’re acting strange. Are you hungry? Do you want to play?”

Days passed without a fight. His purrs expanded into a loud, proud rasp. He’d succeeded.

The other life was a simpler matter, bringing the man back from death after a heart attack. After Gingerbread restored him on the sofa where his death had happened, the man awoke with Gingerbread curled up on his chest. Looking at the cat, he rubbed his mussed hair. “Wow, Gingerboy. That was some nap. I must’ve really been asleep. I feel so much better. Guess I needed it.”

Gingerbread purred back.

Yes, he decided as he floated down the quantum tunnel. His life was good. He loved his people and would miss them. He would go back.

Pushing against the growing energy currents, he pressed the other way until the night opened around him again. A light rain was slicking everything, turning it all black. His body remained where he’d succumbed. Getting back into it was a little hard because of the time which had passed, but he persisted, just as he had when he’d shed the collars they put on him. He would never wear a collar. Hated them.

“Ginger,” the man called. And then whistled.

Springing up, Gingerbread ran across the street and up to the front door. “Finally,” the man said, bending, petting him. “Was that you in the street? What were you doing? Don’t you know how dangerous that is? That’s why I worry about you.”

He picked Gingerbread up. “Come on, GB. Time to go in. Tomorrow is another day.”

Ginger Storm

A ginger storm is rising in the house

stalking the air

chasing a pretend mouse

A ginger storm is in the room

with thundering paws

and a flash of zoom

A ginger storm has settled on the floor

soon his purr

becomes a snore

The Dogs Dream

Last night’s dream shook me. I’m not certain why.

I was with my spouse. We were at her mother’s property, with her mother. Her mother passed away in Feb., 2018, after several years of illness. Her illness and care were instrumental in a family schism with one sister. The property is over twenty acres in the countryside.

The estranged sister wasn’t present. I had an impression that it was she who’d passed away. My wife, mother-in-law, and I were talking in general. As the conversation progressed, I was inspecting the house and thinking about what needed to be fixed and how that would be done. We were mostly talking about the dead sister’s husband. He was planning to stay on the property (he and his wife had a home on it) and would continue taking care of it.

I went outside to walk around. It was a gray, quiet, chilly day. While there was a lawn around the houses and outbuildings, fog swathed the woods. Tree trunks obscured with a gauzy swirl.

Weirdly, I still heard my wife and her mother talking, even though they remained in the house. While walking around, I saw a large, gray or dirty white curly-haired dog cross the property. To me, it appeared that the dog had dragged itself out from a hole under one of the outbuildings. When I went to check that out, I saw another dog come out of a hole from under another building. That was soon happening in every direction. There were quickly seven or eight dogs of different sizes, colors, and breeds running around.

I spotted a small ginger tabby cat. Seeing all of these, I ran back to tell my wife and her mother about the animals. They either didn’t understand or didn’t believe me. I kept repeating what I was telling them, and then insisted that they come out to look. They finally agreed, and when they looked, the number of dogs seemed to double, and then two ginger cats were there standing up and looking back at something. As if a signal was given, the cats dropped to their feet and darted away. Seconds later, the dogs did the same. For several moments, it was a helter-skelter scene of dogs racing to their holes.

And then they were gone.

End.

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