A Pet 8

the catog woke up in the morning and rubbed his eyes with his fluffy feet. He carefully lapped his milk and then wandered around the house. the daughter, with hurried steps, raced to her car. the catog felt a little ignored.

he looked at the painting of hephaestus and aphrodite. he looked down at the floor. he wanted to scratch the floor. he went to a corner and curled himself into a donut form and began to sleep.

deborah came in through the opening in the door and curled herself next to the catog.

the fur of cats or catogs, so luxurious and endless, wave after wave of hair, milked with a richness, a continuity which is so lush to the sense of touch. eyes wide open, cut our imaginations, again, reality interrupts, coughs, and the stretches of fur, the long, stalking gesture of cats and catogs. their eyes are piercing, seductive, dangerous, inviting you to pet their... scratch their backs, and they purr like a sigh extended, an afterthought to endless pleasure, cats and catogs, then they hop off, go do their thing, and pretend you don't exist. they've gotten what they wanted and that's that. the vampire teeth of the cat gleaming with joy as they are about to bite, the narrow focus of their gate, as their fur points outward almost... they are in for the kill... death is but a door to discovery.

the catog's eyes opened wide. deborah.

what's your game?

i don't have a home.

just live in the woods.

they just don't like me.

what's wrong with not being liked?

sometimes i need a bit of warmth.

deborah was warm and kind although she pretended not to be. the catog kissed her nose, then she bit him. they raced outside and felt the warm rays of the morning sun bathing them with an orange glow. the catog was as black as death's teeth and as sexy as a dead woman's blood, streaming from her heart, flowing to elysium on ships, on ships. deborah was an egyptian cat and her tail twirled around like a pastry. they bit each other and then scratched each other and then began to laugh furrily, purrily. mad children of the night, living on the blood of the moon, the decapitated head of a princess, milked alive.