“I've started taking photos of the cats with my phone, which they do not appreciate. When the camera appears they look away, flick their tails, spring up and shoot underneath a house, dive into some brush. Save for this one cat that stared right into the camera, orange and royal as a lion. A few nights later, on an evening walk with my dog, we pass ten cats, all stretched out in the scorched crabgrass behind a neighbor's back door. They watch us as we pass, their furred heads turning slowly at the same time. They look like they are casually dreaming of murder. Like they are guarding a portal to the underworld. Like they have been alive since the dawn of earth.” CatsPhotosStray CatsStraysWild Cats Book:State of Paradise Source: State of Paradise
“The cat wandered between two women. In one house, kibble and clear water. Sometimes, bits of roast chicken, even, sometimes, translucent fish skin. That’s the house that first called her its own and, for all those nights until she found the other woman, she’d purred there without asking for anything more. But, I’ve already told you, she found the other woman. Whose house held the wondrous calm of no children. A blessing. Wet food in the kitchen. Catnip growing for her in the yard. The women came to be like sister wives. Accepting, if not companionable. Opening and offering everything when the cat came around.” CarePoetryFoodPoemSharingCatsWild CatsFeral Cats Book:America, A Love Story Source: America, A Love Story