…animals and people change. A cat knocks on the door of Ed’s sheepshed. He is given food. He never leaves. But he lives in fear. Of everything. He is a difficult adoptee. He marks everything new and suspicious looking for months. Years even. When I visit, I cover my belongings under heavy plastic. In case.
That was before. Now, the cat comes up to me. Tentatively. He has the demeanor of someone who wants to engage you but wont let on. He gives a furtive look and if I reach out very quietly, slowly, he’ll relax and accept a rub on his cheek.
…you assume hostility where there is none. The cat appears indifferent to birds. He’s a mouser – Ed tells me. He walks with a nose to the ground.
You’d have a hard time convincing the robins today. The appearance of the cat makes them fly to higher branches. In truth, the appearance of me makes them fly to higher branches too.
…you assume that things people do cannot hurt you when, in fact, they can. Birds and cats move across their respective terrain, oblivious to the men in orange, with guns.
Wear orange vests! – I tell the cat and the birds. Unfortunately, the robin is hell bent on a shade of red. And the cat? At least he doesn’t look like a deer.
Have I neglected anyone? Oh, oops:
…animals and men get so comfortable in their spaces that they have a hard time accepting other spaces. Two examples: one in his perfect corner, the other, comfortably positioned with his butt on a warm laptop.
Me, I just sit and watch and try to get some work done in a small corner of the sheepshed.