Tales of Ella the Circus Dog
2006-05-10 3:49 PM
Missing Cat.
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The People are heavy today, and they’re making me heavy, too. We are missing Cat. He ate supper last night like every night, and he jumped down from the counter and tagged me on his way out the back door, like every night, and when Poodle and I chased him, he vanished over the fence and into the darkness, like every night. Some time later, we all heard a cat fight, and the People went outside to call Cat. Cat didn’t come. The People called most of the night. Cat didn’t come. Not a night like every night.
This morning early, the People take me on leash up the hill behind JohnandAnn’s house, and the People call softly for Cat, using his People name: Ziggy. Cat doesn’t come. We walk through ivy and nasturtium, around cactus, through dead leaves and buzzard droppings, past a dead possum I’ve been sniffing in the wind for a few days now, but there is no sign of Cat. On the path ahead, I smell the blood way before I see it, there on the stepping stones, there where the People are standing, and we all stand there a long time looking and smelling and practically tasting how recent it has been spilled. The way it spreads out makes me shudder in the People’s arms. Cat lay here.
We head back to my house, and I feel the heaviness float down around us as we move down the hill, and I am the only one still calling Cat’s name.
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