Week 480: Tabby Rasa and Cat Commandements

Tabula rasa, the blank slate, has taken a new meaning in the courtyard. One recent morning I left for work and saw a Red Cat of maybe four months in a window. Almost indigestibly cute, he was a war with the window shade and was, judging by the bent to hell slats, winning a decisive battle.

Diane once told me that most Red Cats are boys–a gene, or lack of, makes four in five male. So, I stayed with the odds and called him a dude. He was wearing a little collar with a tag on it that I assume contained his name–but I prefer making up my own names for other people’s pets. There is something Gaelic and Boy From County Hell about the little fellow, so I named him McGillicutty–Gilly for short.

We made eye contact in the gloaming of dawn. And for a second his bright blue Kitten eyes transformed into those of the Hell Goat, whose horizontal pupils have seen all the world’s evil and are bent on adding new horrors to the history of menace. Hence the destruction of the shade. Gilly understood that I was on to him and laughed, for he knew I was powerless to do anything about him. I smiled, gave him the thumbs up and got out of there before he decided to have a go at me. (I really want to snap his pic, but so far I am hesitant to aim my phone at a neighbor’s window.)

People who are convinced they know everything are dead wrong. But Cats are born with all knowledge and it blooms in their pointy little heads as they pass through Kittenhood. They change from Tabby Rasas to well written Fiends within a year.

Only living creatures not named humankind are capable of honest deviousness. The Spider has its web, the Cat lurks the Squirrel behind the cover of a discarded Big Mac carton. The circle o’ life has little bumps for the unwary. Human guile is artificial because of the perhaps false concept of morality. The Cat does not consider the opinion of Jesus as she eats a bug or waits for the right moment to pounce on you through your newspaper. She figures it needs doing and She knows she is much too fast to suffer repercussions. Dogs might be the exception because they can arrange their eyes to convey a sense of guilt, but the Dog also knows that acting sad is the easiest method of getting out of trouble when nabbed with a pot roast in his mouth. Long exposure to humankind has affected the Dog, but not the Cat.

Hugh’s post last week reminded me that writers should be the same as Cats; not necessarily should writers go to war with window shades, but they should go to war against the big and little things in life that they are offended by and exalt what they like even though it may be a minority opinion. Trust the reader to come to an opinion about you that is based on honest writing. We live in a world in which there are actually persons who are paid to join protests and agitate. There are also fools who tout conspiracy theories they do not believe in because the books sell. And there are “Good German” writers who write as “told” due to fear of the Social Media Elders. In old Roman Law there used to be a term for a person denied citizenship due to misbehavior as a slave. That person was considered dediticii. Although the labels have changed, the concept still exists today. To summarize my feelings for this sort of thing, I turn to Groucho Marx: “I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member.”

Anyway, we have traveled from a Red Kitten working over a shade to the evils of passive acceptance of a bully agenda. I find Gilly to be closer to the truth. And if he could read (maybe he can and just feigns ignorance–a Catly thing indeed), he would approve of at least four of this week’s stories. But first I want to mention Karen Uttien who was up on Sunday with a special called In a Word . I believe it snuck past some readers and I encourage those who missed it to give it a looksee.

I happened to be up on Monday with The Adventures of Beezer And Barkevious. They are based on two Dogs I had the pleasure of knowing while growing up in the sixties. Big Joe and Tam. Complete opposites physically, but always pals. Big Joe was a fine British Bulldog, but, Tam, however, was actually a Schnauzer, not a Scotty.

Long time Site friend Harrison Kim nailed his twenty-ninth appearance Tuesday with Miss Teen Chemanous. If anyone has an accurate and deep memory of the way things were (and I am sure still are) growing up, it is Harrison. He also has a wonderful affinity for persons who escape common notice as well as those tagged “losers” by society. His next will place him in the rarified air of the Thirty Club.

Wednesday welcomed first timer JJ Graham with Looker. This is an incise yet at the same time elusive piece centered on self worth and discovery, while living rough. The MC never complains, and there are a couple of moments when the reader must wonder why so much in our world is like this–everywhere–why it is authorized. It sticks with you and that is a great quality to have where there are many other stories present.

Pulse by Gregory Golley took center stage Thursday. It is a fine example of how our perception of reality is affected by an accident. The professor experiences a different POV after falling and the author is able to transit both realities with ease. This is also Gregory’s first LS appearance and we look forward to seeing him back soon.

And we closed the week with our third first time contributor, Steven McBrearty. Quality Photos touches on a romance that is probably better imagined than actual. The closing paragraph connects to the reader and summarizes the special wistfulness found in this story. Overall it is a well done look into one of the dramas we pass on the streets everyday; as the same “people dramas” pass us unaware of our own ongoing little side shows.

Please, if you haven’t already done so, toss deserved accolades at the stories that began with Karen on Sunday, then resumed Tuesday through Friday. (You may throw fried food at Monday;  it will not go to waste.)

I now close with the Cat Commandments, with number ten left open for suggestions.

• Thou Shalt Break Shit Late at Night
• Thou Shalt Not Respond to Your “Name”
• Thou Shalt Not Be Overly Concerned about “Aim” In Your Litter Box Usages
• Thou Shalt Not Observe the False God of Monogamy
• Thou Shalt Kill Kill Kill
• Thou Shalt Sleep on the Center of Beds
• Thou Shalt Covet Another’s Shoebox
• Thou Shalt Stare at Nothing to Create Unease
• Thou Shalt Show Indifference to “Toys” Until No One is Looking
• Open

Leila