The Cat

He slips through the darkness of my neighbor’s yard, this nocturnal cat. The only reason I can see him at all is because part of him is white. The rest is black and  gives an eerie impression of pale, disembodied blobs floating above the grass. What is his reason for being out? Catching a sleepless rabbit or mouse? Is he just a curious cat who wants to know what’s going on while we humans are asleep? (Well, except for an insomniac writer.) Will he meet with other cats sometime today and compare notes about what he has seen?

A second black and white wanderer lives in the neighborhood. This one has an Attitude and a Swagger. No slipping through the bushes for him. He boldly strides into view with a chip on his shoulder. He’s muscular and tough and the other cats may have voted him in as Emperor for all I know.

Then there is a gray cat who reminds me a great deal of  D. C., who belonged to Matt and shared life at Manos Meadows with us a long time ago. A pretty yellow and white cat lives somewhere nearby too. I don’t see them all at the same time. They are loners. And each one seems to be heading  home after a night on the town. They move softly so as not to awaken anyone but I imagine their destination is a comfy cushion and a bowl of food after being awake for so long.

Have you noticed that in many mystery stories, the protagonist has a cat or two or more? When Barbara Burgess and I wrote The Cemetery Club, we did not include a cat in the story. But in Grave Shift, a homeless yellow and white cat adopted Darcy and Flora. They named him Jethro and I’ll have to admit, Jethro adds a homey touch to their life in Levi, Oklahoma.

My grandmother, Ma Latty, always had cats on the farm at Etta. She had house cats and barn cats. The barn cats eliminated  mice and rats who would have eaten the corn. House cats were more for companionship.

One particular barn cat always kept a wary eye out for dogs who ventured too close to her kittens. When a dog trotted  into her domain, she leaped onto his back, dug in her claws, and rode the surprised intruder out of her territory.

Cats have their own ways and think their own thoughts. They are aloof, dignified, funny, curious and mysterious. The cats I see slipping through the early morning darkness probably have never seen a barn nor do they need to work for a living but they are intriguing little creatures. Perhaps they keep the neighborhood free of rats and mice. And some cats I am acquainted with even help solve mysteries.