...it's a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, wrapped in bacon...mmmmmmm....
It surprises me that I am still surprised by the stillness in our city neighborhood, our 'hood, circled twice daily, minimum, by cop-copters. Well, to the East of my house they circle, in the Projects. To the West, where I walk the remaining walkable housepet, all is quiet, fragrant in green wetness, humming with night creaks and squeaks and chirps.
As we stop at a corner, Shiloh does a double-take, which is even funnier on a dog. "What do you see, boy?" A small cat, sitting, in the street. "Let's have a closer look!" We cross. Cat runs. Dog strains at leash. Cat has disappeared into bushy landscaping around a darkened house. Dog seeks, checks, stops. I see eyes glowing, and in the gloom, outline of ears. Shift angle, I can make out head, stripes. Color? All cats being grey in the dark, I'd guess maybe...grey. Dog stares, sits. Cat, standing still as stone, stares back, and slowly, slowly, without moving her head, eases back end into sitting also, mirroring dog. They stare transfixed in apparent telepathic conversation.
Dog breaks first, distracted by the squawk of some waking avian creature. Cat continues to stare. Dog looks back, stares more. Cat flicks an ear, twitches a whisker, glances away, so bored with boringness of this boring dog. And looks back.
Dog's ears twitch, wriggle, emote, express, plead. Cat is unmoved, and eases into reclining position. 'I have eaten creatures larger than you for a midafternoon snack, and you do not frighten me in the slightest,' claims her body english.
Dog whimpers, and with excessive ear conversation, explodes into a play-bow at cat. Cat does not budge. Dog looks at me. "She's a cat, and doesn't want to play with you." I feel a pang, miss Silver, know that Shiloh misses Silver more than I do. I tug gently at the lead. "Come on, boy. Let's go home. Papa's waiting for us." With many a reluctant backward glance, Shiloh walks away with me.
The dark swallows blurry outline of cat, leaves not even a smile behind. The dark swallows us, too, and damp muffles sounds of our feet on cracked concrete walks.