Many manys
“I'm tired,” I say, to no one in particular, so I'm not surprised that he answers.
“Take a nap, then,” the barely visible one purrs. The Woman, who sometimes senses him, calls him Ghostcat. That was not his name-among-us when he was flesh, nor his name his Man or Woman called him then, but it amuses me to call him that.
“Not that kind of tired,” I reply. “It's the all-time shadow that follows me. It tires my legs, when I walk or jump. It tires my fur, so it gets rough. It tires my guts, so food sometimes comes up.”
“Ah,” the spectre says. “It's age. How long have you been here?”
“Longer than you,” I say.
“But I had many and many seasons before coming here,” he responds, “and many and many in my own fur.”
We count: One, two, many. It's all we need. But our lives are many times many. It all piles up, like leavings in the litterbox.
“How many manys have you lived?” he asks me. “Where were you before?
I think back, thoughts chasing memory like a mouse or bird. All the way back.
My eyes first opened to a place of complex sights, sounds and smells: old wood, dirty engines, other animals - the dog that took my mother's life.
Giant hands found me, found my littermates. Put me in a cage-box, which shook with car noise, then put me in a room with a big dark couch, and other places to hide, where no big things could hurt me.
Strange humans came into the room, made excited noises, tried to grab us. One day, a hand found me.
“I got this one,” the Man said. “Is it a boy? I don't do well with girl cats,” the Woman asked.
He poked at me. “I think so,” he said. “The only other one I see now is the tortie, so I know that's a girl.” He handed me to the Woman, who does her own inspection. “I was hoping for a black one.” “He's gray, that's close,” the Man reassured. They take me.
Their place of big rooms became my home. I found safe places. The Man and the Woman provided food and attention, and so much to explore. Because they couldn't find me, they said that I am called Jeckyll, “because he turns into 'Mr. Hide.'”
But I knew where I was, and I liked it. I had windows where I could watch the world Outside. I don't want to go Outside, it's so very big, and when the Man and Woman took me out there, we went to a place where another Man hurt me. My world was enough.
I don't understand why the humans put things where I couldn't get at them. I never could figure out how to get up to the big spinning fan on the ceiling. And I could swear they put that slippery stuff on that one shelf on purpose.
After many seasons, everything moved and the Man and Woman set me up with them in another world. Much of the same things were there, just with different floors and walls. I adjusted.
The next move was so much harder. The Man and Woman put me in the box, which I hated. Then they put a harness on me and showed me the outside of the box was many times worse. Big truck noises! The horror! I accepted the box for the rest of the journey, which took a whole day.
We moved a many times since then. The changes became easier for me. Still, this last move was many and many - and many? - seasons ago.
And now I am reminded that I am tired.
I ask Ghostcat, “Did you come here, because I will soon be like you?”
“Maybe,” he answers indifferently. “It's nice here - beautifully cluttered.”
“They do provide a lot for me,” I agree. “I have sun windows and nap places. They pet me and let me spend time with them, though I have to remind them that I'm here. They give me half-soft food that I'm better with, though it doesn't always taste the same. They give me a moving-water bowl.”
“Sounds like a good life,” the ghost muses.
“It is,” I say. “Many times many good.”
- - -
Entry for LJ Idol: Season 10, Second Chance Idol Week 4; Final Topic: Open Topic. Our tigre de casa, Jeckyll P. Kitty, turns 20 years old at the beginning of April (exact birthday unknown, so we celebrate on April 1). He doesn't hide as much these days, and we're glad to see him still around.
Additional: April 24, 2017 -- Today Jeckyll joined Ghostcat in his Tenth Life. We cherish the many times many many manys and then some of all we had with him.
“Take a nap, then,” the barely visible one purrs. The Woman, who sometimes senses him, calls him Ghostcat. That was not his name-among-us when he was flesh, nor his name his Man or Woman called him then, but it amuses me to call him that.
“Not that kind of tired,” I reply. “It's the all-time shadow that follows me. It tires my legs, when I walk or jump. It tires my fur, so it gets rough. It tires my guts, so food sometimes comes up.”
“Ah,” the spectre says. “It's age. How long have you been here?”
“Longer than you,” I say.
“But I had many and many seasons before coming here,” he responds, “and many and many in my own fur.”
We count: One, two, many. It's all we need. But our lives are many times many. It all piles up, like leavings in the litterbox.
“How many manys have you lived?” he asks me. “Where were you before?
I think back, thoughts chasing memory like a mouse or bird. All the way back.
My eyes first opened to a place of complex sights, sounds and smells: old wood, dirty engines, other animals - the dog that took my mother's life.
Giant hands found me, found my littermates. Put me in a cage-box, which shook with car noise, then put me in a room with a big dark couch, and other places to hide, where no big things could hurt me.
Strange humans came into the room, made excited noises, tried to grab us. One day, a hand found me.
“I got this one,” the Man said. “Is it a boy? I don't do well with girl cats,” the Woman asked.
He poked at me. “I think so,” he said. “The only other one I see now is the tortie, so I know that's a girl.” He handed me to the Woman, who does her own inspection. “I was hoping for a black one.” “He's gray, that's close,” the Man reassured. They take me.
Their place of big rooms became my home. I found safe places. The Man and the Woman provided food and attention, and so much to explore. Because they couldn't find me, they said that I am called Jeckyll, “because he turns into 'Mr. Hide.'”
But I knew where I was, and I liked it. I had windows where I could watch the world Outside. I don't want to go Outside, it's so very big, and when the Man and Woman took me out there, we went to a place where another Man hurt me. My world was enough.
I don't understand why the humans put things where I couldn't get at them. I never could figure out how to get up to the big spinning fan on the ceiling. And I could swear they put that slippery stuff on that one shelf on purpose.
After many seasons, everything moved and the Man and Woman set me up with them in another world. Much of the same things were there, just with different floors and walls. I adjusted.
The next move was so much harder. The Man and Woman put me in the box, which I hated. Then they put a harness on me and showed me the outside of the box was many times worse. Big truck noises! The horror! I accepted the box for the rest of the journey, which took a whole day.
We moved a many times since then. The changes became easier for me. Still, this last move was many and many - and many? - seasons ago.
And now I am reminded that I am tired.
I ask Ghostcat, “Did you come here, because I will soon be like you?”
“Maybe,” he answers indifferently. “It's nice here - beautifully cluttered.”
“They do provide a lot for me,” I agree. “I have sun windows and nap places. They pet me and let me spend time with them, though I have to remind them that I'm here. They give me half-soft food that I'm better with, though it doesn't always taste the same. They give me a moving-water bowl.”
“Sounds like a good life,” the ghost muses.
“It is,” I say. “Many times many good.”
- - -
Entry for LJ Idol: Season 10, Second Chance Idol Week 4; Final Topic: Open Topic. Our tigre de casa, Jeckyll P. Kitty, turns 20 years old at the beginning of April (exact birthday unknown, so we celebrate on April 1). He doesn't hide as much these days, and we're glad to see him still around.
Additional: April 24, 2017 -- Today Jeckyll joined Ghostcat in his Tenth Life. We cherish the many times many many manys and then some of all we had with him.