Muse #2:  The Cats

by Frannie Z

 

Their names: Angelface and Pierre.

I am not sure if I loved them

because I treasured their humans

or if I treasured the humans

because they belonged to the cats.

 

Angelface would front my legs boldly

then bounce into my lap

where he liked to stay.

Pierre would explore, then rub,

suggesting but not asking

for pats.

 

Petting, pats:

Pierre’s human made the verb

into a related noun.

 

“Wussy” is what his human

styled Angelface.

He wasn’t cowardly,

but didn’t trouble

neighboring cats,

preferring, instead, to claim

food and comfort

without competing.

 

It is the way they both moved-

not like tigers,

more like small trees,

playing out the small shivers

that moved their heads

like friends of light winds-

that fastened me

to their cat lives

and undid me

in their presence.

I could do no more

than watch, bring food

provide pats

 

and offer up human

nonsense words

which in some chemistry

of irony

translated

into what we all navigated

in our disparate brain and sound systems

 

into love.

 

And, like Spock

in the episode

which found him climbing a tree

and touching the face

of a human who loved him,

I made the steps toward

translating, just for a moment,

the rush of pleasure

their presences gave,

 

 

to happy.