My cat’s anus is probably the part I see the most often, so I’ll begin her description with that. Do you remember when you were about 6 years old, and you got that first really bad cut on your head? For me, it was playing lawn darts in the 80’s. It was one of those events that you tell your Mom was an accident, because that sounds better than saying that Margaret from next door thought of a cool new way of playing. Of course, I still wasn’t supposed to play with her after that, though I did, just much less, but thought about her all the time. The freckles under her eyes, her burgundy hair, which made it look like autumn all year round, everything about her was painted on the insides of my eyelids. That scar though, before it was really a scar, when I would turn my head in ways it wasn’t supposed to turn, using every mirror I could find just to try to see it, that is what my cat’s anus looks like.
Above, usually going straight up with an ever so slight curve one way or the other, is her tail. It’s covered in short, black hair, like Mrs. Reymon’s arms. I had the hairiest 5th grade teacher and she hated me. I wasn’t bad at my schoolwork, I aced all my tests, but I talked. I talked too much. I knew I did. I thought it would make Holly Thompson notice me, but it never did. I gabbed and gabbed all about nothing, until I saw Mrs. Reymon’s wiry, hairy arms approaching. I was only slightly scared of her. I was scared that she would find a good way of embarrassing me in front of Holly. A lot of the girls thought I was funny, they all wanted to talk with me; never Holly though, the only one I really wanted to talk to, but never had the courage to. I think Mrs. Reymon knew, because every time I’d stop to stare at Holly, one of those hairy arms would wave right in front of my face like a cat’s tail.
Her body is mostly white, and she’s a skinny puss. I think she’s lean from all her jumping. Sometimes she’s just a white rush of fur with a black tail trailing, flying through the air like that ball I had hit over the wall. I had only one single home run my whole life, but my coach acted like I was the star. I was amazing in the field, I’ll admit; best shortstop in any high school in the region. That got some girls’ attention. That got a couple too many girls’ attention. That got me into some trouble. Between Andrea, Marlee, and Rachel, I’m surprised I made it out alive after that mess. I remember how pale I was that day, I was the color of my cat’s coat.
She’s white right through to her knees, where she turns black once more, mirroring her tail. Just four little black wheels under the white body. I swear I subconsciously picked her because she reminded me of that little coupe in college. There were some stains in that back seat that I hope the poor fellow who took it off me for a couple hundred bucks never takes a black light to. That’s where I had my first date with Bridget. That’s where I had most my dates with her, after deciding to become a relationship person. That’s where she dumped me. That’s where I sat after the first couple of failed interviews. That’s where I heard that my Dad had early onset Alzheimer’s. That’s where I was when I saw my mom shooting up heroin through her bedroom window. That’s where I was when I drove from my mom’s hospital to my dad’s burial. That’s where I was when I decided I didn’t have the balls to drive off the cliff. I replaced the tires before selling it. The old tires were so worn, they were starting to grow hair, like cats’ feet.
Her ears are mostly white, with black tips, like the reverse of a snow capped mountain at sunset. Her eyes are yellow like the fields in the fall. Her nose is half black, half pink. Her whiskers shoot straight out like white lasers, her whole face stares at me sometimes. Just like Jennifer stares at me sometimes, just like Justin stares at me sometimes, the wonder in his eyes telling me that I need to be his hero. Jennifer is the real hero, she’s the greatest mother ever. Sometimes, while she’s cooking, and holding baby Lois, when I take a break from playing dinosaurs with Justin, I see the sun bouncing off that ring I gave her, right onto my cat, who sits there, staring at and admiring her beauty.
Anyway, that’s what my cat looks like.