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Cheshire Dreams - An Interspecies Dialogue
by Daria Vyaersi

I am able to recall being a quiet and watchful girl in a neighborhood that was very sunny and lined with poplars. It was habitual to first refuse to take notice of a stray cat that occupied the cement steps of a resident house. I would pretend I had better things to do than show curiosity. But shortly after I had first taken notice, I began glancing over my shoulder when I'd arrive next to his house and I would always be able to see his rib cage jutting out. I looked down at my own stomach, and took notice of an abundant amount of clothe with ribbons. I felt bad because for an entire month, he was at the same place but he never gained an ounce. I was terribly sure of this because I also agreed with myself that watching does not do any harm. From my window he appeared to wait continuously, but no one ever came. I read into this, that him living a normal life, or living at all, now depended on whoever greeted him and fed him. I am sure there had been a time when he was fed regularly, he had liked being fed, and not having to scavenge for remains in the roads.

I'd never heard his voice or seen his eyes quite fully. He was someone I was well aware of, yet, I could not make me, the "me" that is inclined to meddle, to find mutual understandings of events, and how we had gotten to where we currently were, to make a move. The change in acknowledgements that we both existed, in an unhealthy sort of way, happened last night. I did not even bother to take off my shoes when I came home, but my coat dropped to the floor. I viewed myself in my bedroom mirror and was able to imagine a fuller smile and a glow upon my cheeks. I thought that I could look very good if only I did not lack luster, but at this moment I did. I was dogwood branches, dropped into the sea; but tossed back because I was incomplete; therefore, not useful.

My eyes began to shine. I was aware of this sadness that had mauled me as an even smaller girl. Here are some simple sad truths: memories are hard to forget, but even harder not to.

I spoke to myself in comforting strokes of soft breathes. "I have been trying to simply be, to go along my life, as though I should be unacquainted with these feelings which never evaded me. The feelings were shy, and I am unapproachable, everyday, even when laughter sweeps the streets outside, for all hours of the day. I have not left my doorbell working, for fear of that buzz that alerts me that "heavy sad lids, caused by crying because you are so lonesome," is at my doorstep. So, I am afraid to let anyone new into my life."

"I know that in this crevice, this artery so close to my heart, and this one; and these two as well, are the reason why I try to avoid sleep. I was left an orphan in this world. A vacancy sign still hangs and bangs against my musical mind; I could make all intellectuals emotional wrecks. Do you know that I have never been on a train, and have refused to wear certain colors? I refuse to take part in things that these meek living statues enjoy briefly, and then to compensate for the loss of its lack of continuing their gladness, they create more activity that they will never fully experiences to their deepest depths. Because most are shallow. We have the ability to hear so much, if it were not for hats or ear muffs, or preference of music. We have the ability to hear things that were not created by us, but are active nature. If we were to clean out our interiors and examine our often elusive spirit, or imagination, then we may be able to begin singing glorious notes, perhaps impressing nature so that she brings storms and clouds upon songbirds so that they are not able to sing against us. "

I retie my shoelaces and continue "But few people can do this, and even fewer can make time reverse. Fewer can make memories come upon them in a quiet moment, unexpectedly. We tend to go back to what was a ritual, but very nice. It was goodness, wholesome life at its best, being a child, loving, and being loved. It worked evenly, or it did not, and if it didn't that means we have nothing deserving, such as a wink, or a cute smile to go back to and remember, no home sweet home. So then we are forced to think ahead instead and simply decide, will I do as I planned or not? And this could very well lead to a life, where its owner radiates and is able to pull together faces that are truly happy. Or we could go down another route, chose to overflow with feelings, the ones that stir sadness, and write books that are gloom. Others will relate to them when they are out of sync with their ordinary lives. They are momentarily sad and will forget your chapters about how a heart can be mislead; many times, enchanted by hopes even, and then they are dashed. How you passionately write about how you would welcome an opportunity where you would be overly polite and then the outcome would be unfortunate, perhaps even leading to your loss of life. But, none-the-less, your words are excruciating and not relatable because you do not believe in facts, but instead you believe that a pool of strangeness mars your every effort to lead a life of normalcy?"

"I'm sorry mirror for talking so much. I should be allotted only so much time, a certain amount of words... because I do not want to appear to rant. I simply want to express, that my combined past did not make me pity myself or wish bad things to happen to participants in my monopoly of a life. I just miss one piece of pie! It is as though I lay down to rest every night and feel deflated, right here in this crevice. No one can lead me to think that I cannot possibly know what I need. I know that fish swim, yes, unless dead, or constructed or deconstructed by man, or if he is in any other form aside from the one he would have grown into naturally. Many birds fly!" I pull back the curtains and point to the stray cat, "I swear that whatever he would be willing to give would fit perfectly in here." I point to all of my empty spots "I want wholeness now; we put all of this to rest."

I go downstairs and out the front door, and approach the house with the stray cat, with a mournful expression on my face.

"I'll talk aloud because I am allowed."
"Sir, you look as though you lost something."

The cat lowers his neck, but raises his eyes at me. When I smiled it revealed a semi-crooked tooth. He has round eyes that just churn his thoughts, they're a melting pot into the world he's had. He's been living under the scrutiny of others. He sat up and looked down, studying the road the pavement hits. A car whizzes past, quickly, and he wonders still, after months of seeing it and similar models, if they are mechanical executioners? For every time he begins to forget a little piece of memory, he becomes sad and often considers walking himself to the executioner.

The cat speaks. "I guess people must have a good reason for making death so readily available. It seems that anyone can have it at their own choosing."

"No, you're wrong, you prowler. I know that someone with amazing practices, such as you could not truly believe that. And I'm sure you have practices, though I haven't witness any personally. But I am away for many hours at school-"

The cat opens his mouth slightly and steps down from the vacant house's porch. He approaches the girl, and stands on his airy feet, trying to meet eyes, trying to conceive what brought such a sweet stranger to his side, on his last day of living, of his own choosing. He felt that he had sulked and embarrassed himself enough in front of all the bonding, budding, blossoming relationships he witnessed over these dreadfully long, and at times, horribly cold weeks.

"And those hours you were away, I had nothing, not food for so long... oh yes, at least I drank, but it was only because the sky pitied me so it rained at me. I was no longer thirsty, that's true, but now I was wet in the chilly nights, so circumstances seemed not to be favoring this loyal and devoted servant. I was domesticated by man many years ago, and the time between our domestication and my presence here before you, as a thinning soldier of our history and perseverance is filled with the worst acts of betrayal. These acts tore at our cores. We are not predators, we seek to accompany and calm many through his journeys and turmoil. But instead we are persecuted for having been made present by you! Man! And we are devoured by rage, and fire, and whatever other end you could devise for your loyal servant just because you had a bad day. I bear ancestry, I carry all bloodlines, those acknowledged and those that were not, that simply escaped to the woods and were allowed natural deaths until you took an interest in our woods too! Slowly our weak elderly relations, brothers and sisters were exposed to such unnecessary pain. Oh to be skinned, some times alive, sometimes dying, because it caught man's eye!"

The cat admired his fur, even though it was coarse, and slowly ran his tail across his neck. "Man could have recreated, you are capable of this, but no, instead you slaughtered us for what we could not help but cling to and carry with us through all seasons. Some of us, yes, were actually able to live for years, but almost no cat, especially when the cat was large, died a natural death. Apparently man would have us believe that he is a claimer of souls, or the reaper of all kingdoms below him. Although some felines believe this because it makes your actions justifiable, I know better. I know that we used to coexist and were happy along side one another and well fed. But now you all have covered everything, you flourish while we attempt to level ourselves somewhere. We end up living in rotting places, and ones that simply can not allow faith to grow. It is not a bad beginning that we are able to recall, those who care to anyhow. I recall that every member in my cat tree had been lucky at first. Everyone, strangely enough, had been found tucked away in an alley or trail by some young girl. It was always a young girl. Because she has a heart and her interest is pure, and the ability to nurse our wounds, or help us nurse them is very welcome. We repeat our past, everyone. This sadness that I have now was known to the same degree for each and every one of my family members."

"Sir, I am bewildered, but despite that, I would like a chance to say what I know for certain. So, good sir, please grant me your slender graceful ears while I disclose my opinions, perhaps wavering in ideas, please bear with me."

"I refuse your request, simply because I draw myself to a conclusion soon. Right now, I will admit I have a sad, heavy heart, I do not wish to gain a broken one. Young girls are capable of more than anyone will let them know. I just want to make someone understand, share this low point in my already disappointing life with someone before I go. I'll be stubborn; I'll stall my plans, for you, so talk!"

"Few things can be reversed, the past can not be corrected. It is when we are hopeful and have tendencies to remember that we give tears away to our bed sheets and pillows, and in your case, those cement steps you occupied for so long."

I could see the lines in his face tighten. "Were we all foolish in the past to believe that we had equal status with humans? You could not have lied to us so well when you stroked us, because I could not think that such a monster truly exists. It is mythological. I am willing to allow man to take us into his heart now, to watch over us all until we die; it is not selfish to receive what is owed to us."

His eyes exposed amber shedding its vanity; all that remained was a look, like the stern of a ship that guided my attention. 'I grant man immunity against all slaying, unlawful and immoral by any standards on this earth which was provided as a place of rest, not for all these slayings. Yet again, I repeat, so gruesome were these slaying and experienced while wide awake with all senses intact. A good guardian, a decent one would never allow her children to be tormented, and be witness to their cries for so long. Perhaps we trick, is that it? With our soft meowing that conceals our voices. It is all we can do to test man, to attempt to seek good man. We need to be assured that he exists, he is not a myth. You find us questioning and frantic everywhere now. We are desperately trying to work our way into your warm homes so we could live quietly, and after searching for, at times, centuries, we die shortly after reclaiming our rightful places in your heart, the ones reserved for truth, profound statements, astonishing discoveries, and family."

This pause was the first time I noticed he too breathed. Not only did he suffer from a sunken heart, he also appeared to have sunken lungs! His breathing was very shallow.

"Sweet girl, if I decide to approach you, I must be straightforward with you beforehand. If you refuse me, you will break my fragile heart and I will leave a permanent stain here, of bright blood. I asked my entire past, everything, no matter how beat up, or starved or frightening in appearance. I have closed my eyes at the same time every night, since I first took notice of you-"

"I wonder if that was when I first decided to look back, because I felt I should, I saw you then and you remained lodged-"

"Every time I closed my eyes, it grew in strength, and became more likely as I began to read what I saw poised in the sky. You see, we believe that we ascend when we die, our bodies stay, maybe to remind the more thoughtful people of our brief existence. Our iridescent or smoky eyes, our eyes that resemble natural beauty and mystery taken from our surroundings, they are closed when we die, and stay closed as we ascend. Then we take notice of an unfamiliar, no, not.. so unfamiliar; it is a haunting realization really. As soon as we feel that in 'us' we open our eyes, and it has always been that we shed tears. It is very romantic to think that although we are no longer cared for on this planet, we have been allotted, instead, a universe when we die. And a glorious mother spider or someone just as motherly conceived it as a consolation to sharing a planet with you all. We were even spun a light majestic net that lines the universe, to catch our clumsy tears and reflect to you. But man may not even be aware of this, although it is viewed every night. What do you think of it actually, sweet girl? When you look up and up at night? Honestly, I would really like to hear you speak this reply. Please forgive me if I have offended you in any way, it is just incredibly painful to be able to know the future for certain."

"But you did not tell me what you asked the stars, or what you worked so hard for. What did you, what kind of assistance could so sweet and selfless, sad and not deserving of such a fortune, what could you request for yourself? I can not imagine, sweet, sweet animal-"

"Simply that there are remnants."

I kneeled on the sidewalk, and the thin cat solidly sat in front of me, focusing on each other's eyes we remained like this for a minute.

"Sweet girl, I know that I could have what I crave most, what I have searched for, for over a century. But is it better off to have a sweet girl name you, guard you, toy with you endlessly, not like a savage, but affectionately? Is it sensible? To follow love even when you know your outcome in a few years no longer involves them? Will I be able to cope afterwards?

"Oh animal, you question me."

"If I were to lose you, I would be carrying the passing of every cat that lived, however it lived, and in addition I would have lost a sweet girl, who I know I would be willing to love eternally. But you do not seem to grasp that man has lost cats. As soon as I am gone, we will never have existed. You allowed me to consider staying from what I must do to protect cats from suffrage. You may not have meant to, but you also made me sadder. Now that I know human nature, the one that destroys and does not bother to remember any deaths, is born, is born again, is reborn in everyone that is man. This problem that arose since the time when we rose together, side by side, was followed through with gross determination. Does man not feel responsibility for how he knowingly drove a peer to endangerment and now to complete annihilation?"

"No, because we simply know that we do not like feeling sad, so we explain our importance to ourselves, that is how we can continue."

"Then why not offer us sympathy? We would have even settled for sympathy."

"Because we create and distribute as we see fit. We are political, sympathy is leverage and you could not give us anything useful in return."

The cat was surprised by this response. His mouth slowly opened and he rose.

"Please lean forward so that I could whisper something into your ear."
"No, I do not trust a wild animal to my ear; it is more valuable than anything you may have to say."
"Why did you watch me?" he asked.
"Because, well, I felt a need to."
"Do you dream?"
"Yes, I do, a lot."
"What did you dream last night?"
"That I understood these odd movements that take place in my body."
"We will not discuss, we will not bother to argue what had gone on within you, because you truly lack this special quality you want; but you do not need my reassurances that the world exists, or that you are loved."

He sighed, and as he did, his body heaved. "Man is ever changing, please not that I could not bring myself to say that he is ever evolving. He is ingenious in his quest to be active in this world and is easily capable of much, though for us who have emotional intelligence and believe we are able to discern the difference between good and bad, man perceives that the sun may rise for him and that there is only forward. He acquires whatever he may need for his current objective."

"When did it come to the point that man creates, on a daily basis, a way to truly make himself an individual, and is able to wage war as a craftsman? All proceed together and abolish whatever does not carry all of their characteristics. Man does not want a loyal cat; that holds no value in the current interactions with man's world. Man is an equal only to man in value; they would gladly kill one another. I feel that man is hideous, if he annihilates everyone else, he will have made present, now, a hell that is perfect for man. One that consists of people and mind games, intolerable overbearing presences, shoulder to shoulder for as far and as long as hell spans."