Sabrina and Tristan are not too put out about this, as he’s just a tiny mite of a thing and so far he has stayed in our bedroom. We are trying to keep their meetings at a distance. It helps that they go outside a lot during the day, this time of year.
For the first three days we haven’t had to leave Pippin alone at all. There are a few hour-long periods this week that he might have to spend some time alone in our bedroom, though, while we are at work. We’ll have to do our best to tire him out so he’ll sleep through it. He is so young that he sometimes falls asleep upright and gradually slides into a reclining position. Mostly, though, he folds himself up for sleep with immense dignity. He has a nice little purr and chirps like a bird when he wakes up and wants to know where we are.
Cats Dream by Pablo Neruda
How neatly a cat sleeps,
Sleeps with its paws and its posture,
Sleeps with its wicked claws,
And with its unfeeling blood,
Sleeps with ALL the rings a series
Of burnt circles which have formed
The odd geology of its sand-colored tail.
I should like to sleep like a cat,
With all the fur of time,
With a tongue rough as flint,
With the dry sex of fire and
After speaking to no one,
Stretch myself over the world,
Over roofs and landscapes,
With a passionate desire
To hunt the rats in my dreams.
I have seen how the cat asleep
Would undulate, how the night flowed
Through it like dark water and at times,
It was going to fall or possibly
Plunge into the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
Like a tiger’s great-grandfather,
And would leap in the darkness over
Rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.
Sleep, sleep cat of the night with
Episcopal ceremony and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams
Control the obscurity
Of our slumbering prowess
With your relentless HEART
And the great ruff of your tail.
One day it will be a great ruff, but right now it’s a tiny little tuft.
It’s fun to have a baby in the house. At first his legs were a little wobbly, but today he has been galloping around and pouncing on anything that’s not bigger than he is.
He has tiny little claws, but you can tell by the serious way he uses them that he thinks they are wicked.