so i've been telling people that today is the cat's birthday. and why not? i first met the cat at my sister's house at thanksgiving of '88. she was a tiny black and white fuzzball. i thought she was a cat for their household, for one year old korie. but then at christmas i found the cat plopped on my stomach with a big red ribbon around her neck and "merry christmas."

i've written this story elsewhere. but my point here is that at thanksgiving the cat was probably about four weeks old. so to presume a halloween birthday is not too far off the mark.

now here we are 13 years later, a (mostly) black cat, a halloween with the first full moon in almost fifty years. we had a party.

after a quick brush and comb, we broke a few mirrors and walked beneath a few open ladders, knocked over all the salt shakers and glared at that moon over our right shoulder. we opened all the umbrellas in the house and tossed every hat we own right up there onto the bed. a spider hunt uncovered four little buggers and we squashed them dead. then i read her favorite part of Macbeth. "i come graymalkin."

she had already received her present earlier in the week. a brand new litter box with a nice high frame to keep the litter in the box. about a week before that i had removed the cover from the box and resolved to sweep up the mess she made every day. but then i found this new open box and snatched it up. but this is not something i need to keep writing about.

i should tell you about my recent correspondence with one of my favorite living authors, but it has nothing to do with the cat. so i will stop here for now.

Of all God's creatures there is only one that cannot be made the slave of the lash. That one is the cat. If man could be crossed with a cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat.

Mark Twain