Saturday, April 13, 2013


Once upon a time, in the desert, I Fell In Love. In that journey I learned that Love is free, and Love is respect.
Later, with another, love was cruel and it hurt…but, the same one also gifted me with the kind that is Boundless and Knows No End.
Through the years I've learned that Love is passionate and about compassion.
It is tempered despite temptations.
Love is silent.
And sometimes, love drives you crazy you can’t stand it.

Pushkin, our feline friend, is in-Love.
There is this slender black cat that comes to visit him every night, and eats his food. He patiently waits for that pussy, purring for her, and when she finally comes he licks her chest and playfully bites at her neck.
Poor little guy. What he doesn't know is that she probably does that to all the other cats in the block…let them nip at her in exchange for a bit of their kibble; and she has no plans of staying.

I feel so drawn to that beautiful black cat though.
One night she dropped by and from behind the balcony’s sliding glass door her big, light-yellow eyes shone through…it was like Love at first sight all over again.
Once I caught her inside the house rummaging through the trash. I’m sure that as soon as she heard my first step she was already heading for the door…by the time I got outside she was already running down the same staircase where I first saw Pushkin, hot and hurt, or so he seemed to me.

It started out with a little bit of Water.
I filled up a 5-gallon bottle cap and set it behind him as I rushed out to catch the afternoon bus. By the time I got home that night A&a had already taken him in.
I’ll confess.
The first night I left him outside the front door because I was annoyed he kept on scratching the Yoga mats while I burnt the midnight oil writing in my journal.
The next day he was gone.
When Ananta woke and I told her that the cat had left, she was heartbroken. I felt so bad when I saw that sad look on her face…and then all I could do was wish for it to come back.
A day later he did. And on his first official night home was when I saw the Black One.

Since then I've been back-and-forthing as to how I feel about having a cat.
He’s pretty damn smart…he goes potty in the shower.
(To litterbox or not to litterbox? That is the question)
The toughest one so far is dealing with how I feel about him on the bed. I think he pretty much knows he’s not supposed to hop on, after the million times I've pushed him off…he must've gotten it by now.
Or, for all I know he does anyway when I’m not looking, or when the kids let him…

I’m working on it though.
It’s the first time I've adopted a cat and I’m adapting…one thing I realized from a recent Love-challenge is that Pushkin is a Life after all, no less than the trees or the stars, or my daughter, whom I love without end.

Tonight I left food out for her, that pretty, black pussy that Pushkin purrs for at night.
As I caress his back, he falls asleep waiting; and when she finally comes I do not stir.
I sat silently as he watched her eat. Later, he let her come in…I wonder what other hokey-pokey happens when there are no voyeurs around.

I hope you get a little bit of lovin' tonight, Pushkin. (So at least someone in this house will)
You’re free to choose whom to love and I respect that, because I do, at the end of the day - this one in particular; love you.

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