Feral, like all of the rest.Hissing, angry, frightened, tiny.
"No way. No cats in the house."
"But look at her! She's special!"
Children beg.
Husband shakes his head.
He's allergic, you know.
"It will make a nice barn cat."
"But it's special! Look at her face!"
Painted, lovely, like God himself drew a line right down the center,
Over her forehead,
Between her eyes,
Dividing her nose and lips.
"Call her Janus!"
I lift her to my face. She spits and hisses.
This is no house cat.
And besides...
I count the costs.
Sneezing husband.
Stinky litterbox.
Hair-covered furniture.
"Put her outside," I say.
Then, one by one, her littermates
Become dog treats
Who seem to like kitty heads--very tasty.
One night, I hear them, barking
Howling
Growling
And I go out to find her, the little two-faced kitty
Trying to hide out in the open, surrounded by dogs
Soaking wet
Frightened.
I shoo the dogs away and reach
For the frightened kitten who hisses and then collapses
Into my hands, somehow knowing
Very relieved,
Embraced by little hands who loved her into tameness.
Now, an indoor cat who loves life,
Loves being carried around by her tail, her feet, her head
By these children who begged for her
Who sleep with her
Who feed her.
It's so good to be saved.
