by garrett
gilchrist
(We FADE IN on a shot of an ordinary CAT, who is
eating.)
CAT: They say a cat’s got nine lives. Now pardon
is this is some sort of superstitious blasphemy saying this but – crikey!
That’s a heck of a sentence to lay on some poor unsuspecting feline. I
mean – nine lives. What on earth would you do with nine lives? I mean, if
you hadda spend ‘em all as a cat. Yeah, I know. You’re all the
shining idea men until you gotta face a cat’s life. 9 to 5, tough hours.
Sleep. Eat. Maybe chew a fern, claw at the carpet. It’s tailor-made, if
you like mindless tedium. Humans wonder why we’re always so freaking glad
to be petted. I’ll tell ya why, it’s cuz we’re not getting
any, pardon my bluntness. Damned domestication. Now, don’t get me wrong,
I’ve got boundless respect for the feline anatomy in all its forms. But
there ain’t nothing domestication does to you quicker than turn you into
a shapeless, flabby sack a’ bones and cartilage. We’ve become a
species of creampuffs. Ya want to know what the real nine lives of a cat are?
They’re nine stages of history, and we’re on the very last one.
Start with the real big cats, the cats of legend. Sabre-toothed tigers in
lovely oxymoronic books of prehistoric history. Now that’s the mighty
stuff, the stuff of dreams. It’s all downhill evolving from there. You
see lions battling Christians so that a gaggle of overfed Romans can get their
jollies. Yeah, those are powerful cats, they’ll rip a man’s spine
in two without blinking, but already you see the subjugation to the humans, and
that’s the end of it. The weary remainder of the fighting cats retreats
to the jungle or to some hideous zoo to be gawked at, torture, you know, in
total comfort. Little cats become a trophypiece for the home, if they’re
born in a lucky era, or get burned, sacrificed and demonized as creatures of
Satan if they’re not. Oh, we cats have a fine history. We lie around in
suburban bliss, nothing to do but count the minutes and occasionally defecate
upon our owners, who have to constantly wonder why cats have to be so difficult.
Not like dogs then, your loveable, brainless pals. Cats are just …
inexplicable, right?
(pause)
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t sound this bitter.
I’m normally not like this. It’s just that I’ve heard more
than a few hushed whispers that the family might be packing up and moving, and
it’s been sorta impossible for me not to be thinking about where I come
from, where I’m going, life and death and all that cat vomit. I suppose I
shouldn’t be worried. After all, I got nine lives. (laughs)
Y’say it enough times it almost becomes a joke. “Hey Ed,
d’ja hear the one about the cat who lived forever?” Then again, it
does give you a certain feeling of power. You almost feel like some awful old
B-movie incarnation of the Devil. (devil
voice) “Hello, it is I. Perhaps you know me already.
I’ve been around a very long time, and seen and done a great many things.
I go by many names, but you might do best to call me … Fluffy?”
(FADE OUT and IN again on the family DOG, also
eating.)
DOG: The cat? Yeah, he’d say that. He says a lot
of things. But he’s good, you know, in his heart. Deep down he’s a
good sort, wouldn’t do wrong by ya. He’s been having these …
tough thoughts lately. Sometimes he sounds like a friggin’ All-Teacher. I
dunno. I don’t go in much for the philosophy stuff. I’m not the
kinda guy you’d go to for any kinda deep wisdom or anything. I know
that’s what you wanna hear. Sorry to disappoint. I just try to live say
by day and be nice to folks, not get in anyone’s way. It’s not
much, but it’s suited me ok. I’m an old dog. I barely even remember
the old days but sometimes it comes back. I think I remember puppyhood as one
big long happy blur. Pure joy, pure adrenaline. I could run and run for hours
on end, I’d bump my head smack into things, hell, I didn’t care. I
can’t think of any other point in life when you can be completely happy,
all the time. It’s like leavin’ y’re water dish outside a few
days, the water starts out clean then no matter what you do the dirt and bugs
start fallin’ in. But it’s still water, you can drink it,
it’s still good. My life’s been like that. Y’get older, your
joints stiffen up, y’hear the little creaks and pings, y’start to
small, alla time and by the end it’s just one big ball a’ pain but
life’s life, if it’s there you keep on drinking it, cuz it’s
still good, it’s still really good.
(pause)
Is that enough philosophy for ya? ‘Cuz I’m
about runnin’ empty. (coughs)
Y’see this food I’m eatin’? It’s a mixed bag, old
mutt’s stew I guess you could call it. Table scraps, bit of bag food, and
a messload of pills. Yup, when I was a pup they fed me chow, now that I’m
an old friggin’ mutt they feed me pills. I never used to eat ‘em
though, still sorta don’t. I told myself that if I ate them pills
I’d just be admitting to my own old age, and admitting you’re old
isn’t that far a frisbee’s throw from death, believe you me. A bit
back I finally gave in and munched a few of the vile suckers, just ‘cuz I
was worried I might start sproutin’ feathers or somethin’ if I didn’t,
but I ain’t been eatin’ ‘em regularly, I refuse to. Someday
I’ll eat the whole lot of ‘em, and that’ll be the day I fall
down dead. (coughs) The
family’s been good about it. Hey, if they can handle a soul-searching cat
they can certainly handle me.
(FADE OUT and IN again on a new shot of the CAT
from earlier. It is a different day.)
CAT: Oh, it’s you again. Fine, let’s talk,
let’s … chat. Let’s analyze everything, break it all up into
tiny portions and examine and reexamine every one over and over and over again,
till our ears fall off and flop about on the ground like tortured goldfish.
I’ve tortured a few goldfish in my day, you wanna hear about that?
… No? Well, you’re not gettin’ much more outta me today. Look
at me, I’m on freaking pins and needles here, I can’t take this
waiting game. It’s the house move, they’re makin’ the big
decisions now, the humans of there, and damned if I can make any sense of what
they’re doing. I see boxes, I see trucks. I don’t see a cat
carrier. What am I supposed to think? Nothing at all, clearly. I’m a lower
lifeform, I’m outta the loop, and it’s killing me! … Maybe
that’s it (laughs), maybe I
can’t know, maybe they don’t want me to know. Maybe they
can’t have a cat with ‘em at the new place, and the minute I fall
asleep they’re gonna gut me and hack me up for supper. Yes … well,
if that’s their game I can beat ‘em at it. I just won’t
sleep. Ha! Yeah, human race, you better watch your back. I’m an
OLD-SCHOOL cat, I got tiger blood in me, and these claws ain’t purely for
decoration, y’know what I’m sayin’? You wanna outsmart me? I
catch smarter things than you outside every week. I slash their little throats
and if I’m in a particularly good mood I’ll occasionally present
their ravaged carcasses to ya as gifts. Warnings. You wanna mess with me, humanity?
Ha! You got the wrong boy.
(FADE OUT and IN again on the DOG, as before.)
DOG: I’d be lying to you if I said the cat
wasn’t beginning to worry me. I don’t think he’s had a wink
of sleep in over a week. Late at night he’ll curl up and he’ll look
like he’s sleepin’ like a kitten, all peaceful-like, but he’s
always got one eye open. Just a crack. I notice these things. The other he was
going on and on about how all the humans, they were plannin’ to pack up
and move to a new place. And now that he mentions it the house has been looking
a bit bare lately, but some of the other things he said, I don’t know! It
scared the living daylights out of me, and there aren’t a hell of a lot
of things in this world that can scare me. (coughs) Maybe they are moving – actually now
I think I’m almost certain they are, but I’m not scared of that.
I’m not scared they won’t take me with ‘em, and I won’t
be scared of the new place. Maybe that’s all I need, a change of view. (coughs again, louder this time) Excuse
me. I’m eating a few more of the pills today. I know I promised myself I
wouldn’t, but it just hurts so much, I mean it hurts now all over, all
the time, and I just thought hell with it. It’s supposed to help, so let
it.
(pause)
I ain’t eatin’ all of them, though. That
was a solemn promise I made, just between myself and whoever it is that’s
runnin’ this whole big mishmash. Probably a giant cat. (coughs)