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Cat-Eyed, pt. I: Light Fades
Cat-Eyed
in American English
(ˈkætˌaid)
adjective
1. having eyes resembling those of a cat
2. capable of seeing in dark places
When my inner darkness attempts to materialize in my waking world, it swiftly endeavors to suffocate me while I sleep. Luckily, it never succeeds, thanks to a guardian spirit that intervenes and rouses me from my oblivious state. This protective presence consistently takes the form of a feline companion.
In our world of stark contrasts, where life often unfolds in dualities, I once believed I was firmly a "dog person." Cats were but passing strangers in my existence, their enigmatic allure yet to weave its spell on me. It wasn't until a dear friend welcomed two Siamese kittens into his home that my perspective began to shift.
Even though they were brothers they were polar opposites both inside and out. Indo was a wild spirit who loved being outside. With his piercing blue eyes reflecting the sky above and sleek thin coat camouflaged behind blades of grass, he stalked every low flying bird that dared to swoop into his kingdom. Buddha, on the other hand, thought all that outdoorsy stuff was unnecessary and impractical when you could find everything you wanted inside the house.
With his long bushy tail and soft coat, Buddha enjoyed the finer things in life and epitomized indulgence, especially in the human touch. If he walked by and didn’t receive a hand gliding down his back and into his furry tail, he would circle around and try again. If the third time garnered no love, he became very vocal about what he wanted.
Though their vocabulary was limited to meows, their communication was rich in meaning. Against my introverted nature, I too engaged in these conversations, expressing my burgeoning affection. Since then, every encounter with a feline spirit, whether in person or on a screen, completely dissolved the barrier between my mind and my heart. I would only see these innocent fur balls yearning for human connection through heart-shaped glasses.
In a twist of fate, I transformed from one who once spurned feline company to someone who could empathize with Elmira from the '90s Tiny Toons spinoff. However, my parents didn't share my newfound love for cats, so I wouldn't have one of my own until I reached the first of many low points in my life.
Following my initial stay in what later became an annual summer retreat, I departed from rehab to embark on a new chapter in a halfway house, where I unexpectedly found love with a kindred spirit battling her own addiction. Unfortunately, she harbored a greater love for something else that she would eventually introduce me to: heroin. The dark shadows of our lives couldn’t exist without there being a light to cast them. In this time of self-medicated misery, blood-stained betrayal, and intravenous doses of desperation, I was blessed with my first feline companion.
Roo had been the runt of a litter and wasn’t expected to live for very long. She was, as the well-educated veterinarian had put it, “retarded.” I was surprised to discover that our respected guardians of the status quo, be they human or animal doctors, do not possess the level of knowledge one would expect. It seems they are called practitioners rather than experts for a reason. But they knew more than I did at the time, so we were surprised when Roo outlived her doctor-prescribed fate.
As my love for this furless freak of nature known as Roo grew more with each head bump (she needed a helmet with the way she bumped her head into things) and viewing of the timeless classic Milo & Otis (wherein we would find Roo in front of the TV watching with us), the human relationship that brought us two together was deteriorating quickly.
After injecting my heart with liquified lies, I was left broken and abandoned, so she could chase after the fantasy of filling the empty void that had haunted her long before she had met me. On the other hand, every syringe has its sharp, silver lining. It was just Roo and I, and we were better off without another human invading our space.
As life would have it, the other human would hypodermically poke herself back into our shared life on occasion to make sure it was as miserable as hers before her Irish nature would register in her goodbyes. On one such occasion, she had brought home five newly born kittens who were abandoned by their loving human owners. To my misfortune, the growing irony became too much for her to handle. Her conditioned instinct to run could have given Bruce Springstein a run for his money (mmmmm, so cheesy).
So when three of the five kittens didn’t survive, she left and never came back–at least not until death knocked on my door to kick me in the balls.
Roo and I were taking care of two baby kittens, raising them to be perfect reflections of ourselves, rambunctious and rebellious teenagers (I was still only 19), angry at a world they so desperately wanted to love.
Meanwhile, while still under the impression that I could fill my own void with narcotics, I woke up in a hospital bed after my body overdosed on cocaine and heroin while driving (my belief in being a good multitasker had also been an illusion).
To Be Continued…
© WaKeUpWoRLD
in American English
(ˈkætˌaid)
adjective
1. having eyes resembling those of a cat
2. capable of seeing in dark places
When my inner darkness attempts to materialize in my waking world, it swiftly endeavors to suffocate me while I sleep. Luckily, it never succeeds, thanks to a guardian spirit that intervenes and rouses me from my oblivious state. This protective presence consistently takes the form of a feline companion.
In our world of stark contrasts, where life often unfolds in dualities, I once believed I was firmly a "dog person." Cats were but passing strangers in my existence, their enigmatic allure yet to weave its spell on me. It wasn't until a dear friend welcomed two Siamese kittens into his home that my perspective began to shift.
Even though they were brothers they were polar opposites both inside and out. Indo was a wild spirit who loved being outside. With his piercing blue eyes reflecting the sky above and sleek thin coat camouflaged behind blades of grass, he stalked every low flying bird that dared to swoop into his kingdom. Buddha, on the other hand, thought all that outdoorsy stuff was unnecessary and impractical when you could find everything you wanted inside the house.
With his long bushy tail and soft coat, Buddha enjoyed the finer things in life and epitomized indulgence, especially in the human touch. If he walked by and didn’t receive a hand gliding down his back and into his furry tail, he would circle around and try again. If the third time garnered no love, he became very vocal about what he wanted.
Though their vocabulary was limited to meows, their communication was rich in meaning. Against my introverted nature, I too engaged in these conversations, expressing my burgeoning affection. Since then, every encounter with a feline spirit, whether in person or on a screen, completely dissolved the barrier between my mind and my heart. I would only see these innocent fur balls yearning for human connection through heart-shaped glasses.
In a twist of fate, I transformed from one who once spurned feline company to someone who could empathize with Elmira from the '90s Tiny Toons spinoff. However, my parents didn't share my newfound love for cats, so I wouldn't have one of my own until I reached the first of many low points in my life.
Following my initial stay in what later became an annual summer retreat, I departed from rehab to embark on a new chapter in a halfway house, where I unexpectedly found love with a kindred spirit battling her own addiction. Unfortunately, she harbored a greater love for something else that she would eventually introduce me to: heroin. The dark shadows of our lives couldn’t exist without there being a light to cast them. In this time of self-medicated misery, blood-stained betrayal, and intravenous doses of desperation, I was blessed with my first feline companion.
Roo had been the runt of a litter and wasn’t expected to live for very long. She was, as the well-educated veterinarian had put it, “retarded.” I was surprised to discover that our respected guardians of the status quo, be they human or animal doctors, do not possess the level of knowledge one would expect. It seems they are called practitioners rather than experts for a reason. But they knew more than I did at the time, so we were surprised when Roo outlived her doctor-prescribed fate.
As my love for this furless freak of nature known as Roo grew more with each head bump (she needed a helmet with the way she bumped her head into things) and viewing of the timeless classic Milo & Otis (wherein we would find Roo in front of the TV watching with us), the human relationship that brought us two together was deteriorating quickly.
After injecting my heart with liquified lies, I was left broken and abandoned, so she could chase after the fantasy of filling the empty void that had haunted her long before she had met me. On the other hand, every syringe has its sharp, silver lining. It was just Roo and I, and we were better off without another human invading our space.
As life would have it, the other human would hypodermically poke herself back into our shared life on occasion to make sure it was as miserable as hers before her Irish nature would register in her goodbyes. On one such occasion, she had brought home five newly born kittens who were abandoned by their loving human owners. To my misfortune, the growing irony became too much for her to handle. Her conditioned instinct to run could have given Bruce Springstein a run for his money (mmmmm, so cheesy).
So when three of the five kittens didn’t survive, she left and never came back–at least not until death knocked on my door to kick me in the balls.
Roo and I were taking care of two baby kittens, raising them to be perfect reflections of ourselves, rambunctious and rebellious teenagers (I was still only 19), angry at a world they so desperately wanted to love.
Meanwhile, while still under the impression that I could fill my own void with narcotics, I woke up in a hospital bed after my body overdosed on cocaine and heroin while driving (my belief in being a good multitasker had also been an illusion).
To Be Continued…
© WaKeUpWoRLD
