” If animals could speak , the dog would be a blundering outspoken fellow; but the cat would have the rare grace of never saying a word too much.” —Mark Twain
The Cat of the House by Ford Madox Ford
Over the hearth with my ‘minishing eyes I muse; until after
the last coal dies.
Every tunnel of the mouse,
every channel of the cricket,
I have smelt,
I have felt
the secret shifting of the mouldered rafter,
every bird in the thicket.
Nightingale up in the tree!
I, born of a race of strange things,
of deserts, great temples, great kings,
in the hot sands where the nightingale never sings!
Have you ever had a pet cat? What do you remember about them?
Our last cat was Angel. She was my daughter’s pet and then I inherited her when my daughter went off to college. Here is a little story about her.
Angel loved to go into our backyard and make her rounds. She would inspect the perimeter and all the rest as well. There were times when she would catch things to our dismay. She was a cat, after all, and cats do hunt things.
One day I was in the yard and Angel caught my eye. She was standing in front of the patio screen door with something in her mouth. It was a fairly large rat! I thought with a growing apprehension , Did I close the screen door all the way? Angel was good at getting her paw into the gap and pushing the door open.
I had to think fast. Angel would be in the house with the rat in a flash. I picked up the garden hose and turned on the water. Angel hated that sound. I pointed the hose in her direction and said, “Drop it! ”
If you think cats aren’t smart and don’t understand you, I suggest you reconsider that judgment.
Angel ,with the rat still in her mouth, made this little disappointed sounding meow. Like a dejected sigh, ” Awww.” Then she dropped the rat.
The rat kind of staggered away across the yard a bit stunned but unharmed.