As a means of introduction, I would like to introduce to you, reader, my cat Callie. She’s nine years old, a tabby cat, and it wouldn’t hurt for her to lose a pound or two. She loves napping on the couch by the window, and keeps one paw in between the blinds so that she can stealthily see outside. Callie prefers wet food over kibble, has a certain meow for when she wants treats, and her favorite toy is one of my socks. Callie is a friendly cat, but she is cautious at first around new people. She will observe your interactions with me from afar, and once judged as satisfactory, will introduce herself by rubbing her head on your leg.
Callie has nothing against cuddling, as she prefers her window spot on the couch, but every once and a while she will make her way to where I am laying down and will plop herself on my chest. Purring ensues, and I can only describe this time with Callie as being the same as when one is under a weighted blanket. When Callie wants to cuddle, I always find myself falling asleep.
That’s where my story begins. Yesterday evening, I was laying on the couch scrolling mindlessly on my phone, when Callie hopped down from her favorite spot and sauntered over to where I lay. She meowed, hopped up, and made herself comfortable on my chest. The sun had already set, my eyes were already heavy, and the familiar warmth of Callie lulled me to sleep.
My dream was this: darkness, except for a man sitting crouched in front of me. He was naked, his skin taut, and he looked over his shoulder at me. Unmoving, his eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated. His mouth was stretched in a thin line, and the corners of his mouth were cut open wide, the edges black and showing signs of decay, and I could see his toothless gums in full. He sat there staring at me, and I stared at him. I was not afraid, no, I felt fine, as if this were a normal sight to see. Drool mixed with blood dribbled from his chin. I tilted my head to the left, curious of what was in front of me, and he did the same. On his back, I could see his blue veins and could count the bones of his spine. I opened my mouth to speak.
Callie woke me up by nipping at my nose. She had never done that before. Looking at her, I immediately forgot my dream, and looked into Callie’s green eyes as she stared at me. I lifted my hand up to pet her, when, in the reflection of her eyes, I saw the lamp and side table behind us, and then the man from my dream, standing in the corner; eyes still wide and chin still covered in blood and drool. The dream came back to me instantly, and this time I did not feel fine, I felt scared. I sat upright and looked behind me as Callie jumped to the floor.
My heart hammered against my chest when I saw nothing behind me. I looked down at Callie, who sat perfectly straight as she met my eyes. The only thing I saw in them now was annoyance. I twisted my body and put my feet on the floor, then looked to my side where I saw the man standing once more. Again, there was nothing. I rubbed my eyes, stood up, and turned off the living room light. I called it a night, and made my way upstairs to my bedroom to go to sleep, with Callie following behind me.
I slept fine all night. I woke up this morning as I always did, at six thirty, and made my way to the kitchen to start my coffee and feed Callie her breakfast. As I entered the living room, I saw Callie sleeping on her favorite spot, I tossed my phone onto the couch, and made my way into the kitchen. I did just as I planned; as my coffee brewed, I opened a tin of wet food and heard Callie jump down from where she slept, and was greeted by a meow as she entered the kitchen - the treats meow. I smiled at her, set the wet food down, and went to the cabinet to get the treat bag. As she ate, I placed two treats on her plate and petted her head. She looked up at me lovingly, those green eyes full of peace, when I saw it; in the corner of the kitchen ceiling, the man from my dream was crouched, eyes wide, and looking down at me. I let out a yelp and quickly turned around, looking up frantically to see nothing but shadow.
This time was different. I couldn’t shake the nervous feeling like I did last night. I stood up slowly, Callie watching my every move, and backed out of the kitchen; my eyes never leaving the corner of the ceiling. Once I was in the living room, I grabbed my phone off the couch and went to text someone, anyone, to talk about something meaningless and drab to get this dream out of my head, but my fingers faltered and my mind blanked.
I can only describe it as a sinking feeling. I felt my heart sink. My hands went cold and began to tremble, and my breathing slowed. I heard Callie meow from behind me. I turned and looked down, slowly, at her. She looked at me with curiosity.
The house was quiet. Callie’s eyes stayed locked on mine as I walked closer to her. I crouched down in front of her, and looked into her eyes. In the green reflection, I saw the man standing behind me. His head tilted to the left, and I copied. Callie meowed, and the mouth on the man opened and closed.
Callie is getting to be an old cat, but she is a good cat. A simple cat. A cat of routine; sleep by the window, meow for treats, prefer wet food over dry. Callie is a smart cat. An observant cat. A cat of good judgment. Callie sees things most overlook. Callie is a patient cat. Callie waits and waits and waits until the perfect moment to come and rub her head on your leg.
Callie prefers wet food because of its texture and taste. Callie likes the wetness, the tenderness; how it falls apart so easily when she chews. Callie does not prefer dry food because it is tough. It crunches too much like bones. Callie does not like bones. Callie is not a dog. Callie does not bark or beg. Callie is a smart cat. Callie asks for treats, she does not roll over for them. Callie does everything as if she can do it herself, because she will do it herself, in the end.
I got to my feet and went to the kitchen; my coffee was done brewing. I made my cup of coffee then went to the living room and sat down on the couch. I watched as Callie made her way to the window spot and settled down. Then Callie watched me as I sipped my coffee. Callie watched me intently, as if she were waiting for something.
Do you understand Callie? Do you understand her wants? Her needs? Her desires? Callie is a very simple cat. Callie likes wet food. Callie likes the gravy and the slippery feeling on her tongue. Callie hates dry food, despises it. It crunches too much like bones, and Callie does not like bones. All that is left in the end are bones. Bones mark the end of the wet food.
I finished my coffee and took the mug to the kitchen sink. I came back to the living room, exhausted, and laid down on the couch. I heard Callie hop down from the window spot. She walked over to me and jumped up on my chest. I grabbed my phone and started to text my mom.
Callie does not cuddle. She watches, observes, wonders. Why this body, oh God? Restore her to her former self! The punishment does not match the crime! This body, He says, was once worshiped. No, you do not speak the truth! Liar! I am tamed, I am captive; imprisoned! Release me, Father, back to what I once was! Out, out, out!
Callie is such a sweet cat. She’s laying on my chest as I write this, purring and pushing her head against my wrists. I think I’ll go feed her some treats, maybe that’s what she wants. I’ll talk to you soon, mom, love you.