Cat extracted herself from the pavement, like a frugal parent peeling fruit leather from the paper; anxious to get every morsel. “Geeeeeaawd!” she yowled, “Again? Five lives I have lived and you still want more? Why can’t I just lie down here on the asphalt and call it quits?”
“God isn’t finished with you yet!” barked Pluto from the door of Hades, “Out, out damned spot! Go get a life.”
“So when do I get the dog’s life?” mumbled Cat.
“I never even got to have a normal cat’s life. What happened to basking in the sun, purring languidly, stretching and strolling? Oh, I have done my share of arching my back and whipping my tail – and my share of mousing. There was that year of four and twenty deer mice I threatened to bake in a pie. Oh, yes, I used my keen ears for the cause of music and my instinctive sense of direction to get other people where they needed to go.
“There were masters who required me to play the part of Puss in Boots. There were times I wore the pants for tom. I have been aloof and unreachable, and have played the role of pretty much every molly in the world. I have foraged for my meals like an ally cat; licked and groomed and preened – and, been neat about my business, with or without the luxury of litter.
“Meouch, I even played the demeaning part of a dog; the come when I whistle, sit, jump, follow me like a puppy, role. What’s feline about that?
“Aaaah,” Cat purred, “there were two distinct and wonderful lives when I nursed my kittens and carried them by the scruff of the neck. I was good at that. I enjoyed it so much, I even carried around others’ offspring for a few seasons, including a new generation. It takes a village, you know.”
Often, I walk the narrow ridge atop the fence. In truth, I usually land on my feet when I fall. But, it’s those times when I get hit by a ton of bricks, or a two ton truck of slander and misunderstanding, that slay me.
Five lives I have lived – maybe six-I’ll have to get the count straight while I still have a life left to live to write about it. It has been an incredible journey.
My headstone: Always starting over – must have lived nine lives.
What does your headstone say?