Posts Tagged ‘cat’

No There

October 26, 2016

No There

No, little one, my little one. Please, I beg of you. I ask you nicely because I love you. Do not. Just do not go there. Don’t dare run to the doors of the other rooms. Walk around for 2 minutes, no more than 2, and come right back to our room.  Someone can see you in the living room and they’ll tell the fat man. The fat man will manipulate his words to make it look like he is the decent one and that you and I disrespect his free house. He’s very good at that, at saying things in such a way that make him seem respectable. Please, my little cat, forgive me. I am so sorry. I want you to be free. I want me to be free. This is not the place for that.

Clap, Clap

August 12, 2016

Clap, Clap

The cat was just there, looking around her. A man walked by the cat and clapped, once, twice. The cat ran to the other end of the living room. Don’t you dare, she said, to do that to my cat. If you don’t want her to be there, be polite and tell me so. The man said shut up and went into the bathroom.  As soon as he opened the door, the woman repeated her request, this time in Spanish.  I have to tell you, she told him, that I am tired of your lack of respect towards me. The man said something about this being his house and almost shut the door in her face. How can this be your house? You don’t pay rent. Please go back to Mexico. Did you just threaten me with the ICE Group, the man’s voice was shrill. Maria, she threatened me with Ice, he said to the woman in the bedroom.  I did no such thing. I just said you are a rude person. She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her room. I have to get out of here, she told her cat. This is just too, too stressful. We don’t deserve this kind of life.

 

 

 

 

You Can’t

June 27, 2016

You Can’t

I am so sorry. You just cannot move freely here. I have to tell you when to start. I need to open the door, go out into the kitchen and living room. I make sure that the cost is clear. Then and only then can you move in a limited way. Please do not ask me why this is so. I cannot explain it. This is a house but it is not a house. I have no idea what it is. Maybe it is just a bed.

 

 

First Night

June 9, 2016

First Night

They left the building at about 5 in the afternoon. They didn’t know where they were going. They had no place anymore. There was no such thing as home. That was over and done with. For whatever reason, they were out. The taxi drove them to the church. It was a quick and cheap ride. The woman and her cat slept near its steps. The cat moved around in her cage. It was not the bed she was used to, the bed with the cushy comforter and the easy pillows. She had slept on that bed last night and the night before and for months before that. Now inside this small space she was trapped. She didn’t understand this new environment. From time to time the woman opened the cage to feed her and put more water in the water bowl. What next? What now? The night never seemed to end. The woman couldn’t sleep sitting up. She looked inside the cage every half an hour or so. The cat’s brown fur reminded her of someone’s eyes. She didn’t remember who those eyes belonged to, but at one point in her life, they took her breath away. At 6 A.M. the woman took the cat’s cage and her suitcase. She walked on, one heavy step at a time until she found a Starbucks. From now on, Starbucks would provide her (for about $2) with a cup of morning coffee and a bathroom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cling.

May 26, 2016

Cling

I huddled close to the person in the blue gown. She’s offering me food. I need to get close to her again. I eat quickly right after I look at her. I don’t want her to run away, to disappear and leave. I was a tiny little one when I started living on the street. I have jumped from house to house and gate to gate. It’s been almost 6 years. My friends and I play and run around but street life is a pain. Nobody has wanted me before now. I would like a home so I can be somebody’s lap cat–just the person and me.

 

Paunch

May 23, 2016

Paunch

The man, middle-aged and fat, looked at her. “You’re old. You’re ancient, lady.” The woman stared at him. You call me old? I will not allow you to call me old.” She could have added: How dare you call me old? You are an undocumented immigrant who guzzles beer. You are over 40 and you have a paunch.” She could also have mentioned the domestic violence scenes she had overheard from her bedroom. He shrugged his shoulders. “Whatever. You just get that cat out of here. This is my home. It is not your home. You rent a room here and that’s it.” The woman couldn’t believe it. “How can this be your home? You don’t even pay rent as the woman’s boyfriend. You don’t pay, period. You live here for free.” She wished she could have said this, but the man was a lot stronger than she was. “Remember, this is not a hospice or a shelter.” “She was tired; she wanted to go to sleep and forget the scene had ever happened. “ The cat will be out by tomorrow.” In the morning, when she went to look for the cat, she was gone.

The Stranger

November 30, 2015

Stranger

The cat was seated on a chair, her face on her paws. The woman approached her and petted her gently on the head, then under the chin. She looked into the cat’s eyes. There was nothing—no recognition. She thinks you are a very nice lady, a woman behind her said. The woman nodded and turned her head to look out the window. It figures, she thought. We don’t live together anymore. I am nothing to her now.

 

 

The Cat from 5A

June 14, 2015

You waited for me behind the door. I opened it and you would chirp like a tiny bird. And you’d run to the kitchen. It was food time and you didn’t let me forget it. I loved you before I even saw you in real life. The sadness of you caught my heart. The shelter pictures showed a brown little thing with some shades of orange in her fur. I wanted to adopt you so I could protect you.  Now you are staying elsewhere for a few days; I miss you as if you had been gone for months. I will open another door tonight and you won’t be there to greet me. We will not be watching movies on TV. I want you back. You are my family. We belong together for whatever time we have left.

Another

May 9, 2015

Another one. Another evicted cat, another evicted person. A new one, a situation similar to another one years ago. A situation  with no place to go. A search without an answer. Forget, To forget this is happening. It is impossible. It’s too raw, too messy.

No HelpWalking …

July 24, 2012

No Help

Walking the hot pavement of downtown Brooklyn, looking for help; any kind of legal help. There is no way I can afford a paid lawyer. Free legal help is not easy to come by. It is a nightmare—to me this eviction warning is the worst possible kind of nightmare. It comes on top of my foreclosure in GA and on top of 4 more years of uncertainty and agony. If I had known all this and the price, the deep emotional and psychological price, I  would have to pay for the sake of a roof over my head, I would have ran the other way.  I would have taken my cat and gone off somewhere far with her. I have felt homeless all these years. I have identified myself with the homeless and their plight. I feel that there is no going back—losing one home after another, after another, has changed my life. And it has not been a good change. I could be nice and say stuff like I have learned a lot from these experiences, but what does that matter when I may have to hit the streets again?