The Relationship Issue, Part 4
Spring is in the air...
...and Molly the Cat has a suitor. He hangs around the house night and day, lurking, prowling, and howling. He is a young black and white alley cat, previously only interested in our food. Molly is an indoor/outdoor cat, a former girl of the streets, and she values her freedom. She is used to going out whenever she wants to, but she is not interested in a relationship, and he is relentless.
I have a theory that no woman can withstand a determined, unwavering seige, and he is certainly mounting one, but Molly the Cat seems equally determined to remain virginal. The sounds her male visitor makes are startlingly human, and more than once I have rushed to see if someone is strangling a baby outside my back door. She is disgusted by his calling. She says she might consider him -- he is rather attractive, in a scruffy sort of way -- but he acts so needy.
I know how he feels, and I doubt if things would work out. He is a ramblin' cat. She couldn't keep him forever. Oh, he tells her he is ready to settle down, and maybe he even believes it. But he is looking for that first contact, nothing more.
Is there anything sweeter than the anticipation of those early touches, at first so casual? Maybe your knees bump under a table, or your hands brush together as you share a menu. And can any kiss, as long as you live, match the thrill of the First Kiss? The tantalizing softness of those lips as they touch yours for the first, tentative time. The shudder that runs through your body as that other body begins molding to yours, pressing gently and urgently to you.
Don't we want that fleeting moment to last? We try to go back there every time, every night, but the first time can only happen once. Some will wander, trying to find it again, that electric thrill, and maybe they'll find it. Maybe, like this fevered tomcat outside right now, they will think they have found it, the Fountain of First Touches.
And maybe, after a bit, they will have to move on again, down the alley to the next dark place, to continue the search.
...and Molly the Cat has a suitor. He hangs around the house night and day, lurking, prowling, and howling. He is a young black and white alley cat, previously only interested in our food. Molly is an indoor/outdoor cat, a former girl of the streets, and she values her freedom. She is used to going out whenever she wants to, but she is not interested in a relationship, and he is relentless.
I have a theory that no woman can withstand a determined, unwavering seige, and he is certainly mounting one, but Molly the Cat seems equally determined to remain virginal. The sounds her male visitor makes are startlingly human, and more than once I have rushed to see if someone is strangling a baby outside my back door. She is disgusted by his calling. She says she might consider him -- he is rather attractive, in a scruffy sort of way -- but he acts so needy.
I know how he feels, and I doubt if things would work out. He is a ramblin' cat. She couldn't keep him forever. Oh, he tells her he is ready to settle down, and maybe he even believes it. But he is looking for that first contact, nothing more.
Is there anything sweeter than the anticipation of those early touches, at first so casual? Maybe your knees bump under a table, or your hands brush together as you share a menu. And can any kiss, as long as you live, match the thrill of the First Kiss? The tantalizing softness of those lips as they touch yours for the first, tentative time. The shudder that runs through your body as that other body begins molding to yours, pressing gently and urgently to you.
Don't we want that fleeting moment to last? We try to go back there every time, every night, but the first time can only happen once. Some will wander, trying to find it again, that electric thrill, and maybe they'll find it. Maybe, like this fevered tomcat outside right now, they will think they have found it, the Fountain of First Touches.
And maybe, after a bit, they will have to move on again, down the alley to the next dark place, to continue the search.
posted by Larry Jones at 10:23 PM
11 Comments:
I have an overwhelming urge for ... ummm, hunting perhaps?
Theresa - Don't upset Nature: You are The Hunted.
A sound of a male cat in heat is unnerving. I don't regret lopping my cats balls off one bit.
Brent, stunningly well said. As for that fleeting feel of the first time, I believe Foreigner's "Feels Like the First Time" sums it up in an unsurpassingly cheesy way.
Brent - This girl-cat is the only cat I have ever had, so I have no experience with boy-cat neutering. I recognize the importance, but I know I would shudder...
Steph - I admire your ability to come up with a song title for every occasion, but, cheesy or not, I have to say that Foreigner has never summed up anything for me.
I'm always stuck hearing extraordinarily loud cats outside my window at 2 a.m.
They're never very subtle
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the fountain of first touches...ah that wonderful place...we all go there to drown...and because we think it is el dorado...how addictive that water...and, by the way, what a nice way to have phrased it.
i suppose i shall probably steal it. what i'll do, i'll consciously forget where i read it, and then leave it in some dormant part of my mind for awhile. one day, i'll be searching for a phrase, one that rings true, almost poetic, and it will rise up, like one of my own thoughts, if i have any, and i will indeed think of it as mine: the fountain of the first touches.
i hope you don't catch me.
L - Are you sure they're cats?
j - You can't steal it, because I give it to you. I hope I do catch you.
Larry, you make me laugh outloud more than anyone else.
Theresa - I'll bet you say that to all the boys. I know all the girls say it to me, often when I am not trying to make them laugh...
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