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September 3, 2001
the cattle are lowing
It is not entirely clear why I allow my cat to stand on my testicles while she contemplates the position she will assume to nap next to me as I watch television lying in bed. The pressure hurts, to be sure. But somehow it would hurt me more were I to deny her comfort and routine. Besides, the discomfort is short-lived.
My dog is terrified by thunder whether it is distant and timid or near and commanding. We take tranquilizers together; she for a calm in the storm and I as an anodyne against psychic ambush. I counsel her in soothing tones until the drug takes effect. In me the storm still rages, but I know it for what it is. And that knowledge gives me comfort.
The animals are at peace. If I had cattle, they would be lowing.
© 2001 by the beastmaster