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Cat corpse
Jan. 27th, 2015 01:29 pmSeveral months ago, shortly after I moved and started the new bike commute, a new bit of scenery appeared by the side of the road: a vehicle hit and killed an orange marmalade tabby cat. Riding past it, day after day, I observed that it wasn't a stray. It was a fairly large and fat cat, with a white flea collar around its neck. It died outside of an apartment complex, but there's no sidewalk along that stretch of road.
It's still there, lying mostly in the gutter. For a long while, it lay there on its back, front legs outstretched, stiff and fat and smelly. It's still on its back, but much flatter now, the orange and white fur all gone to dirty, matted gray.
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I slept poorly last night. At one point, I had a version of the recurring dream where I'm moving into a decrepit house. In a previous iteration, the wood for the upstairs rooms had dry-rotted so badly there were holes in the floors. This time, the house was single-story with two kitchens and crazy waterfall-scale leaks in the roof, and an old roommate was moving into the section with one of the kitchens (at least we wouldn't have to share kitchens, my dream-self thought). Then, suddenly, we were swinging on a giant swing outside of the house and riding around on tallbikes, and I thought, maybe this house isn't so bad after all.
Part of the poor sleep involved waking up to the sounds of some sort of motorized machinery off in the distance. I think it was related to the oil well that's two blocks over. Most of the time, the derrick just sits there, nodding to itself, but a couple of weeks ago when I biked past the oil-yard was suddenly busy with trucks and heavy drilling machinery at work.
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There are parts of this essay that I really appreciate, especially the parts that deal with how our society deals with different kinds of sicknesses, and the use of music.
It's still there, lying mostly in the gutter. For a long while, it lay there on its back, front legs outstretched, stiff and fat and smelly. It's still on its back, but much flatter now, the orange and white fur all gone to dirty, matted gray.
-
I slept poorly last night. At one point, I had a version of the recurring dream where I'm moving into a decrepit house. In a previous iteration, the wood for the upstairs rooms had dry-rotted so badly there were holes in the floors. This time, the house was single-story with two kitchens and crazy waterfall-scale leaks in the roof, and an old roommate was moving into the section with one of the kitchens (at least we wouldn't have to share kitchens, my dream-self thought). Then, suddenly, we were swinging on a giant swing outside of the house and riding around on tallbikes, and I thought, maybe this house isn't so bad after all.
Part of the poor sleep involved waking up to the sounds of some sort of motorized machinery off in the distance. I think it was related to the oil well that's two blocks over. Most of the time, the derrick just sits there, nodding to itself, but a couple of weeks ago when I biked past the oil-yard was suddenly busy with trucks and heavy drilling machinery at work.
-
There are parts of this essay that I really appreciate, especially the parts that deal with how our society deals with different kinds of sicknesses, and the use of music.
