A Tabby

And so, this is how the stray tabby spends its, day, hanging out at the park, and, when the time comes, it’d, gone to that apartment, like it had a schedule it was, keeping…translated…

On my way home in the evening, I’d made my way to go to the park, saw that tabby, stationery, in the dandelion bushes; it had his back arched, focused, with its front right paw raised a little, its tail, curled down, turned upwards.  He’d kept this pose a couple of seconds, then, in a split second, pounced forward, entered into his, second position: his whole face merged into the grasses of green, with all four paws on the soil, tail in a straight line with its back, like he was playing that game of bo-peep—clearly, there’s something there in the flowers and the grasses that’s captured his, attention.  Then, he’d turned ninety-degrees, set himself in the pose of front legs crossed into a standing position, turned its head looking backwards, the tail raised upward in a slant, still, without any hesitation.

Suddenly, a grasshopper leapt to midair, like the toy spring, turning in air, then fallen into the weeds, as the tabby “bumped into” this jack-in-the-box, he was, thrilled, took several steps backwards, rustling up those tiny yellow flowers by his, feet.

with its own biological clock, telling it where it needs to go at the various time of, day…photo from online

And still, the tabby lived up to his, reputation.  Shortly, he’d returned to the hunting pose, standing tall with that majestic feel, with the horizontal dark brown pattern on his coat standing too, the whites on his belly, his limbs, also, majestic, the patch of black on his tail too.  I’d felt uneasy, watching all of this, my heart was like the dandelion’s seeds, ready to, get, blown away, as the tabby moves, the seeds are about to, fly all over the places, wherever the cat’s movements made it go.

At this moment of tension, the tabby suddenly, lost interest in the, grasshopper.  That original passion, that tentatively watching, suddenly, he’d, discarded.  He’d turned around, and left the, park, slowly walked toward the alley, got down on all fours to rest between the entryway of the apartment door and the potted plants, with its paws, hidden underneath its, belly, the tail wrapped around the body tightly—I’d been told that this was the catloaf.  He looks like he’s waiting for something, but, nothing really.  Maybe, it’s time that the incenses were offered, the first-floor residents started playing the tapes, from inside of the screen doors, came the low murmurs of the, Buddhist, chants.

And so, it seemed, that this stray tabby has a schedule that he’s keeping, at specific times of day, he knows where he’s supposed to go, and, that’s just how these homeless animals live, they’re free to roam, and they managed to find a safe place to curl up in too when needed.