Tales of Ella the Circus Dog
2006-05-14 3:40 PM
Without Cat.
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Bigblack’s sort of taken over since the night that Coyote murdered Cat. He sleeps on Cat’s cushions in the wicker on the front deck. He hangs out on top of the back wall. If the People bring out his food bowl a little later in the morning, Bigblack is waiting on top of the cat house, which is on top of the picnic table, which is on top of the back patio. He isn’t any more pleasant to be around, but he’s sort of taken over.
I keep an eye out for Cat, although the People tell me I should stop. He was so pure and brave and funny, and life without Cat doesn’t feel right to me, although I wouldn’t admit that to just anyone. A dog must have her dignity. Still, I watch the bottom window in the front door to see if he’ll appear, sitting outside waiting to be let in. And when the People are feeding us supper, I listen for Cat’s jump onto the back wall and wait for him to gallop through the kitchen. I always wanted to ride on his back as he zig-zagged his way down the hall, like the bucking broncs I see on the rodeo channel, but I never tried it. I saw how he sharpened his claws. I hope Coyote’s face will always bear the scars.
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