Cat

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And Manager Mick asked, 
“Wanna see pictures of my cat?” 

And somebody said, “Sure.”* 

I was at the other end of the room, 
too busy to look up from counting 
down my drawer, 
which was short 
—because it’s always short. 

And Mick said, 
“This is the pose I want her to be in 
when she’s taxidermied.” [Sic.] 

And whoever he told this to said, 
“But you cat’s not dead yet.” 

“No,” replied Mick, 
“but she will be soon. 
And you need to have pictures 
or what you get back
 looks nothing
 like your cat.” 

“Uh-huh.” 

And Mick continued, 
“I’m going to have her body 
hollowed out
 and her neck 
hinged 
so I can lift her head 
and put stuff in. 
No one would think 
of looking 
for anything 
in a stuffed cat.” 

12 February 2001 

*[Strange how I cannot now declare with absolute certainty who this somebody was. That back room / stockroom / dishwashing room was about the length and width of a stretch limo (and in no other way anything like a stretch limo). These days, instead of a coffee shop, it’s a donut shop (which presumably sells coffee).] 

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