2001-11-02 16:40:20 (UTC)

Ghost Cat

"At some point I hope to have a glorious alibi to cover up
the miserable failure of my life. My greatest anxiety is
that it won't come soon enough."

The fucking cat is lying across the mousepad and being a
pain in the ass. He's the crazy one who fell into a bucket
of motor oil when he was a few weeks old. He tries really
hard to make himself noticed. We called him Slick Boy.
He'll lie there and paw at my hand whenever I touch the
mouse. I talk to him and the other cats like they're real
people, like they can understand what I'm saying. The
creepy thing is that when I talk to them, they sit there
and look at me inquisitively with their weird, glowy eyes
as if to say, "We understand completely." I saw the ghost
cat the other day. He was my cat, exclusively mine, and he
died a couple years ago in the vet's office, hooked up to
IV's, while I was at work. They said he died of
malnutrition, kidney failure, dehydration. I gave him food
and water every single day, but he just kept getting
skinnier. He was the greatest cat in the world, his name
was Willow and he hated everyone except me. He never
meowed. The weird thing about him was that he was normally
so cold and unaffectionate, but if anyone anywhere in the
house was crying, he would suddenly materialize out of
nowhere and he'd be the snuggliest thing ever. He'd purr
like a maniac and rub himself against you and curl up in
your lap until you stopped crying. It was like he knew when
people were upset and felt obligated to comfort them. The
last year he was alive was a hard year for me, not a day
went by that I didn't cry about something, and he was
always there.
I saw his ghost for the first time a few weeks ago. I was sitting on
the porch smoking a cigarette. There wasn't any wind that day, it was
eerily still. But suddenly there was wind and the leaves were flying
around and I watched as they took the shape of a cat running across
the driveway, then scattered and fell to the ground again. I saw him
again the other day, it was sunny out and I was, again, sitting
outside smoking a cigarette. The sun was slanting down between the
trees, and I saw the sillhouette of a cat dart between the sunbeams
and disappear.