A cat is not owned by anybody. Leonard Michael writes a meditation on felines that is as gorgeous and full of mystery as–a cat. Not surprisingly, the book of wonderful line drawings and short reflections is called A Cat. If you have ever been privileged to reside in the same space as one of these rare creatures you would appreciate the attempt to capture the essence of cat on paper, in ink. No one can actually do that, but Leonard comes close. It’s clear he has been intimately acquainted with a cat or two.
A cat weighs about as much as a baby, and it sleeps most of the day; but if a cat were fifteen pounds heavier, it wouldn’t seem cute, and it could tear your throat out.
A cat doesn’t look at itself when you hold it up to a mirror. It acts as if nothing appeared in the glass. That’s because a cat believes it is invisible. A cat has to believe this because, when stalking, it has to be invisible in the eyes of its prey. To be a cat, you must be invisible and very real at the same time. Worshippers believe this of God.
When a cat shuts its eyes, you disappear.
Dogs tend to look like their masters, but this is never true of a cat. A cat is a highly particular creature.
Dogs, birds and ferrets can be trained to hunt. A cat refuses to be trained. Superb hunter, it will not enslave its genius for a person. However, if a cat loves you, it may bring you a kill, warm and bleeding, and drop it on the living room rug where you can’t fail to see it, or drop it beside your bedroom slippers so that, first thing in the morning, you can step on it. A cat’s gift–warm, soft, wet kiss against the bottom of your naked foot–leaves a red blotch, like lipstick.
I lived with two spectacular cats for nearly 21 years. They were fabulous, photogenic, affectionate, jealous, graceful, clunky, playful and brilliant. One could fly and she taught me several games she liked to play. One was a puddle of affection and loved to sleep curled up on my laptop. I had no idea about cats until they took over my life. Now we have an amazing and shockingly adorable rabbit. He lives in a dollhouse. He is very aware of his status as prey. Anxiety is a palpable thing for him. He is so covered in fluff that I doubt a predator could even figure out what he was or how to stalk him. Nevertheless, we will not be opening the door to any more cats out of respect for his personal views. He does resemble one of our cats, though, in physical attributes and a certain quizzical look now and again. And he runs the house, a very cat-like quality.
A Cat Leonard Michaels | Riverhead Books 1995