the pitter patter of little feet

Friday, April 20, 1990

My sincerest apologies to all the reincarnationists. I am now a believer. I am now a cat.

All I remember is a car crossing the center line and hitting us hard. Then it was black, then it was a light grey, and now I am a cat. I don’t remember anything about being dead or being born. But I bet you don’t remember either.

There are four kittens in this litter, plus Jane and me. She and I can talk, but apparently to the people around here it just sounds like meowing.

I cannot see as well as I would like. Having my eyes five inches or so above the ground does bizarre things to perspective. Items which I know should be colored are only grey.

I can hear very well. There are all sorts of sounds that are going on constantly that I could not hear as a person.

I like how fast I move. And I like claws. Not having any hands is going to drive me crazy.

Saturday, April 21, 1990

Today the people here let us out in the back yard. The grass tickled my underside. The patio was warm and pleasant to lie on. My claws are not long enough yet to climb any trees.

From over the fence I could hear people talking. It was my family. Apparently, I was reincarnated as a cat belonging to the Johnsons around the corner. I cannot decide if this is good or bad news. I miss my family and would like to go see them, but they would think I am just a cat, and not their son. Jane is all for the idea — she lives across the street from my family, and would like to go visit them, whether they will know her or not.

Whichever it is, we will have to wait a while, until we are big enough to get over the fence or around the block.

Sunday April 22, 1990

Today all the people went away for many hours. They left lots of food, but I missed the attention. I like to be around other people. Cats I am not used to yet.

Except for Jane, of course. I kind of like having all this time to spend with her, even if we cannot use it to go to museums or movies. Lying around sleeping and eating out of the same bowl is nice enough. Can cats have incest?

I think that all the people went to the Earth Day rally downtown. I was going to go to that. I won’t even be able to read the paper about it. Hopefully, the people here will watch the news tonight.

Time is going slowly. I miss my hands.

Tuesday, June 26, 1990

I think that we are big enough to go over the wall now.

Jane had almost forgotten about the idea. I think at times her mind is slipping. She seems to want to pay attention to nothing but playing and eating. She says someday she would like to have kittens. I would like to have them with her, but it’s not the standard family deal. I am not sure the same pleasures would be there. But it’s tempting, I will admit.

I want to try to keep my mind sharp. If I am lucky in my next trip back to life I will be a person again. Of course, I could also end up as a watermelon, and then trying to keep my wits about me now is kind of futile, but at least it gives me something to do.

I am awfully tired of the here kitty kitty, nice kitty bullshit already. I suppose that the people here cannot help talking down to us, as they think we are only cats, not people. Oh well. Such is life.

I wonder what happened to all my possessions. I suppose I will find out about that stuff when I get to my house. Tonight, out through the new kitty door, and over the fence to my yard.

Thursday, June 28, 1990

My family was glad to see me. So glad, that they are keeping me. Mother cried, and said she had never seen a prettier kitty cat than this one. Father said if Mother and Sister took care of me, I could stay. Sister said I would have loved me. It was all extremely surreal.

My house, from my new point of view, is a huge place. There are rooms I have not seen yet. My old room is one of them. It is closed off right now. Quite actually, I am not sure I would want to see it.

Friday, June 29, 1990

Horrors. I have been declared an indoor cat. I am not ever going to be allowed outside. I heard Mother talking on the phone to Jane’s parents. They have made Jane an indoor cat also. I will never see her again. I will never talk to her again. This cannot be happening to me.

The food is not bad. Nice cat food. I hate the beef stuff, but if I ignore it enough, they will stop buying it. I am the perfect consumer — I cannot be convinced by anything other than the actual product.

And I have television to watch all the time. They leave the set in the family room on for that stupid canary. I’m supposed to like to eat birds now, and I still hate that little ball of feathers.

July something, 1990

Days are blending together. I miss my hands. Nothing but eat sleep run purr shit eat sleep run purr shit. Actually, kitty litter is kinda fun, in an animal sorta way. Affection like cats get is nice, very nice. I could get used to it. I probably will. That dumb bird appeared to be be fond of movies, so at least I get to watch lots of those. I can reach the buttons on the cable box, but I can’t remember what does what.

Late Summer, 1990

You know, that canary is starting to look real tasty. Yup. Might be a decent meal. Crap in a can is getting sort of stale. I need a change of pace. Can’t figure out how to get into the cage. Wish I had paid attention to all those Sylvester and Tweety cartoons when I was a kid. I really miss Jane. I wonder what she is up to these days. I guess she’s probably trying to catch fish with her paws. Joe is not gonna go for that, though. What a yummy looking bird.


That lovely bird is still alive. The carpets are wonderful to lie on — they feel good on the tummy. I do not know how fast I can go, but I love running about the house. This fast from this low to the ground is a really neat sensation. It feels like I’m driving an Indy car. There was an Indy car race on television the other day. I don’t watch too much TV these days but I was trying to get the bird and it was pretty neat watching these brightly colored cars go around and around and around….


New appreciation for fireplaces. Lots of nice warm places to sleep. Don’t sleep in the hamper anymore. Getting dumped into the washing machine is not fun.

Heavy curtains in the front windows, but the ones in the back are open to sunlight. The pool is frozen over, but there is no snow on the ground yet. The people here have a birdie. I will try to eat it. He is in a cage.

White stuff is falling from the sky. It is very bright. I think it is called snow. I am not sure. It does not matter. It is not making any noise. I know this because I can hear the whole world. There is a rumble from down under the floor, and the clothes wetting machine is churning. The cold box hums. It is all very neat. I have a post I can scratch without being hit. I like it very much. There is a birdie in a metal tree. I wish I could reach him.

The white stuff is gone, the the ground is grey again. Today they took the window out of the front door, and put in something that lets in air. I can climb on it. I climbed on it and saw another cat, across the street, in a windowsill. I do not think I have ever seen that cat before. I do not think I have seen any cats before. Just me. I’m hungry. Hurry up and feed me, people. Feed me the bird if you want to.

The people went away. They left me across the street. I have another cat to play with. I do not think I have seen her before. We tried to catch fish out of a bowl.

I think I made her get kittens. I hope I did. I would like to hear the pitter patter of little feet.


This was published on 20 Apr 1990.
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