I swear,
I declare myself

possessed by a

Cat.

This inexplicable turn
of affairs should not be so
inexplicable.

It was always presumed
that the cat
owned the human.

Surely, this is a bad presumption?

No, explore this:
a cat
is an animal of much independence
and little tolerance.

a cat
will meow...

in
cess
ant
ly

Try to comport yourself
with dignity
and rapture

after

you have been owned
by a cat.

Shall we continue,
disabused of certain notions?

I had come to share companionship
with a cat,
of a certain Calico
persuasion.

From the first,
an affectionate manner,
deep abyssal eyes; those,
so ponderously round
depths,

they

should have told

me.

Lest even
her eyes
in memory hypnotize,
consider this next,

my illusion of self.

Scratched upon and
berated with that
ghastly,

in
cess
ant

meow,

I rose myself
to feed her.

A simple, kindly duty

for those of us
not bedecked
with the mandibles to open cans.

The chore done, I reseated myself.

Unfortunately,
slender paws
slide well under doors.

Preferably,
when a new device of amusement
becomes apparent.

I was such a device.


"Very well then, I will back away.

Scratch.

Scratch.

Scratch.


Me-ow.

Again, with the

in
cess
ant

Me-ow."


I blundered to my feet
—I had work to be done—
and allowed entry
for the cat.

Presumably,
such dangerous presumptions I held,

an infernal calm might now ascend.

Here, I was given for a fool
once more.

My patience rendered thin,
months of this
I endured,

my confident companion
showed deep interest in strolling,

most casually,

over my work.

I gently suggested
her removal
to the effect of

momentary compliance.

Months of this
I endured.

I came to dining
the cat
and keeping well
to my self.

A fugitive in one's own abode.

In the passing occasion
that she sought,
and I received
her invitation towards

more mild
cohabitation,

we played together,
sharing simple amusements,
chiefly:

her noose.

No, do not let your mind
stray to the conclusion
that it was

ever

placed about
her personage.

It was merely a thing to
bat about,
chase after,
become tied up in
and maul.

Specifically,
maul unto destruction.

As the feline is wont
to covet new toys,
they barely give hesitation to being
discreet.

Again, I found myself such a device.

My
impatience
wearing
thin,

I again
suggested her egress.

Safe well from the crack
under the door,

I reasserted composure.

I sat before my work
and made a deal with every
deity or spawn of
gruesome imagination
that would have my attentions:

Anything

for my treasured stillness.

Barely was I convinced that
my futile oratory had,
by some ineffable charm,
chanced to seize upon the fancy
of a passerby devil,

when the mockery began.

My ears gently attuned themselves,
fading out the masking static of my fan,
engrossing themselves in

a most admittedly,
wholehearted, yet
viciously

in
cess
ant

Me-ow.

Reconvene yourself in your recliner
and contemplate this, a man
and a Cat.

Here,

my illusion of self

ended.

No, I was not to throttle Her.

I was to stand up and
once more
bear out the red carpet
before my auspicious
Mistress.

It is entirely conceivable
that one prisoner,
manacled to his cell,
could well imagine

some

sense of self.

This would not be a weakly souled one,
but a gaunt frame
housing only unutterable faith.

This might ring entirely conceivable,
however,
for this to be my glad luck,
it manifested entirely improbable.

No,

I am convinced, without the
slightest
of false hope, that I am

possessed by a

Cat.