Miss Annie eats the oatmeal every morning and night. Tonight
she could barely hold the spoon to her mouth. I watched her shake. I watched
her lose her eyes for food. She’s scared. She knows what’s next. No one wants
to die on a full stomach.
Miss Annie found me wandering the alleys behind the bakery.
She watched where I dug through the trash to find old bread. For a while she
tried to steal the left overs out of my paws, but I was too quick. Then one day
she came with a smell that no cats can resist. She left a trail of gutsplit
ocean and held that pink piece of fish high in the air.
-Here Kitty Kitty Kitty.
I had no choice. I followed, sneaking up back alleys until I
came to live with her forever.
Miss Annie checks the Barrel one or two more times. Tomorrow
she goes over the falls. She runs her old fingers across the ridges, inspecting
for holes. She doesn’t really know what she is looking for.
-We will eat like Queen Nefertiti. Fish and cheese and milk.
Bowls of grapes. Platters of Pasta. A whole roasted turkey for you and me.
I circle her legs and press my whiskers as hard as I can
against her boots. When I do this she smiles tiny yellow teeth.
-Time for bed then?
That night she tosses and turns. And like my feline mother
taught me, before she abandoned me to the streets, I enter Miss Annie’s human dreams.
