The Cat Writer (excerpts)

I’m the cat writer…

I write for cats…

I’ve got cat’s eyes and I can write in the night… in the dark… I write more than I speak and it’s not because the cat got my tongue… there’s room enough in my head to swing a cat… to scat a cat… cats don’t need to hear what I have to say… we share the same mind…

Some people think I’m the cat’s whiskers… or even the bee’s knees… but truth of the matter be told I’m a cat writer…

Most people wouldn’t understand what I’m writing about… what I’m on about… but cats do… they meow and meander at the wonder of my words… but who gives a cat’s ass… this is just the kitten calling the cat black…

You may laugh but cats read… and probably better than you and I… mind you in a cat’s shelf you may find dog-eared books… then again it’s a cat and dog world…

They see me write and they come up to me… to my desk upon my desk and go through my papers… as words come up to me… they’re just the same… cats of a feather…

Up on the catwalk I’m off… I may take a cat’s nap… I may disappear but only for a spell for I’ve got nine lives… and I’m grinning like a Cheshire cat all the way home… I run my writing with a cat of nine tails… no pussyfooting with my writing here…  there’s more than one way to skin a cat you know… so you’d better watch out before I lay my paw on you and claw you…

Cats have that eerie air about them… to pretend they don’t care –if only for themselves- but they know damn well you’re there and how to use you… they don’t let on and they don’t let you get on with your business so long as they’re there… from early in the morning… a cat’s lick and they’re aware… you’re in their world… just when you think they belong in yours…

jesse CRAIGNOU

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