April 2011

Here’s a cat story by excellent writer Pacifica, who lives in France.

Ostensibly nothing has changed – Wednesday might just be bad dream, a crazy memory, or a lesson learned.  That’s how lucky we were.

I look at Siena, my dainty 11-month old calico, moving in her cat ways around the house with absolutely no difficulty, and THAT is what seems like a dream. I still have to make myself remember she is NOT a ghost, not just a memory moving through the space, but flesh and blood and consciousness, still utterly herself, still very much here, still very much alive.

While holding her, feeling the warmth of her body, the strength of her affection and the deep bond between pet and owner, I also feel how very thin the boundary is between what IS right now at this moment and what might have been, the short distance between one eventuality and another, between having her here in my arms, safe and miraculously healthy, and having her somewhere else, or maybe not anywhere at all any more.

***

I had come back from the market on Wednesday afternoon and the cats, Siena and Napoli, were restless.  It was a beautiful day so I let them out on the balcony to get some fresh air.  They eventually fell asleep in the shade and I went back inside briefly to get my computer and a few notebooks.  A minute or two later Napoli came in to find me.  I knew in that moment something was wrong; I could tell from his face, his body language.  I had the strange contradictory feeling of immediately sensing what had happened, while not believing it could be possible.

Siena, Napoli’s sister, was no longer asleep on the balcony.  After a thorough search it became clear she was no longer in the apartment at all.

The story is continued here: After the Fall – This Version of The Story

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