I, Wonder, wonder what is a-paw with my Human Person? Or, in people speak: what is afoot with my owner? Things began three days ago with the buzz and vibe from that small, plastic handheld device she carries around, welded to her hip and handbag. She listened closely, as I do with ears swiveled to danger, and tore out of the house like I I would from a dog. She returned to our house in darkness, tossed out a few morsels for my evening meal and failed to replenish my water dish. Somehow I, Wonder, was forgotten! This was followed by a night of her tossing and blanket twisting until I was forced to abandon my usual place at the end of the bed to a side-chair for a much needed cat nap.
Early the next morning, I waited patiently for breakfast, in a fetching pose by the fridge. But again she raced away, only returning in darkness at day’s end. She trudged in wearing a tissue-like blue and white hospital mask like an unwanted collar. She smelled of bleach and human, chemical things, instead of snowflakes and frosty air.
Coat still on, she collapsed like a paper bag onto the sofa. My belly was growling like some feral beast so I wound some friendly figure-eights over and under her outstretched legs.
A sigh: ‘Sorry, kitty. I know you’re hungry.’
Wonder is the name, food is my game. But I let that ‘kitty’ business pass. It seemed my pant-leg pattern made contact. So I sat, drew in my paws, and emitted encouraging purrs. I waited. The old grandfather clock ticked and tocked and eventually chimed like that plastic pocket phone-thingey whose chime had first begun this strangeness: her absence, absent-mindedness and absence-while-present.
….
It has been over one human hour – and still no sustenance. I lie outstretched on my back in flagrant, visual discourse: look at my empty, exposed tummy. All this while my HP just sits, in the same place, in the same coat, just staring into space. She is not looking for dust particles in sunbeams as I sometimes do – this is nighttime. She is not staring at the flicker and glow from that sometimes lit up wall picture – it, too, is dark. Oh dear, what can the matter be? As I muse (without mews) I see that upon her unmoving head, her face is dripping like the bathtub faucet. In the blink of a cat’s eye, I right myself to all fours, swivel and land in her lap, seamlessly resting my forepaws on her still coat-covered chest. She is barely startled. I lean in, sniff and reach up. On my velvet paw – a single rain drop from her face. It tastes of salt. Those big person eyes are so sad – dare I say it? – puppy-dog sad. I raise my furry face and whisker kiss this salt water away with my expert pink tongue. It does the trick – she comes back to herself – re-inhabits her winter-coated self and smiles.
And I know that whatever old wounds or future fears are cobwebbing her mind – when she is with me, she is in my world: the world of sentience, and play and the hunt. In my world there is only now, the present. We wondrous cats do not concern ourselves with yesterday or tomorrow, but only with the mouse or fly or bird we can we chase NOW. It is my super-feline special power: my engaging presence makes my human be present. In these moments I earn my name. Does she recognize I am “Wonder Cat”? I wonder….
This Wonder is one perceptive feline! We should all aspire to be more like him–living in the present, chasing our mice. I look forward to more of his tails!