Jade, My Familiar

My familiar. Loud, affectionate, playful, pleading, selfish. Loathes the vacuum and the shriek of an unfolding ironing board. Bleached paw and marked forehead on black tortoiseshell fur. Her eye tears in a way she can’t control. Fearful of human sneezes but can tell when they’re faking. Wary, at first, of strangers, but warms to those who reach out to her. When she jumps she lands gracelessly with a grunt. I said once that her sister looks like the Platonic ideal of a cat, while she looks like what you’d end up with if you tried to draw one. Hunter of insects but less skilled at the kill. Chaser of sweatshirt hood laces, lover of sleep. Sometimes gets into things she cannot escape. Moonlights at daybreak as an alarm clock, shoving her head into my hand to fashion a caress. “Let’s cast some spells, Jade,” I came home and said.

No comments: