Fup. Store Cat.
The Trip to Kahani
the trunk would open, they knew, though where the car might be when it
did was anybody's guess. But each of them understood that the trunk would
have to open sooner or later, and when the moment came they would stay
exactly where they were. Nothing mattered anymore but keeping together.
The road kept rolling underneath them. The tires complained. Penny cleaned
herself incessantly. Had she always been so obsessive about grooming?
If you blocked out the noise of the tires and the music on the radio,
if you ignored the whining engine and excluded the roar of cars and trucks
passing and falling back on either side, if you forbade those voluminous
intruders access and focused instead on your immediate surroundings, you
heard only your mother lapping her fur on the one side and your sister's
shallow breathing on the other.
And if you closed your eyes this might explain why Ro had closed
hers, for all Fup knew with eyes closed you could imagine Clara's
sweet breath alongside, and Bruno's raspy breathing as well. Bruno, whose
every inhalation seemed filtered through a sieve of loose pebbles.
The road kept rolling underneath them. Until, finally, the car drifted
to its right, slowed, and soon enough rolled to a complete stop. All three
cats' eyes were wide open when one of the back seats folded down in front
of them and a white sheet of daylight rushed in. Then into the trunk strutted
Bruno, casual as a cat can be.
That Cat That Changed My Life: 50 Cats Talk About How They Became Who They Are
by Bruce Eric Kaplan
"All these cats lead exciting and varied lives wholly independent of the human
race," notes the editor in his Introduction. Well, duh. Scant attention has
been paid to the role of community in modern cat culture, so what a relief that
here, finally, fifty articulate felines set the record straight. Funny, sad,
occasionally shocking, but never less than true, these brave monologues
reaffirm our interdependency in ways that choreographed public displays such as
Paws Across America never can.
Poems by Writers' Dogs
by Amy Hempel
In "Dog Kibble," Tasha Baxter's verse exhibits a brutal economy of
words: "Life is never meaningless," her villanelle announces, "there is
always food." Here and throughout this collection these authors demand
your attention, as if to bark, "You can send me to my room for yelling
at the neighbors but you cannot silence what woofs in my heart!" Among
the selections nominated for Best
American Writing by Pets 2000 are Bob Barker Barry's sordid and hilarious
hallucinogenic escapades with Lynda; a tragic, posthumous prose poem by
Marrow Irving; and Sadie Louise Lamott's "Spoon River Sadie Louise," a
wildly metered exploration of the cross-cultural dynamics within a
household occupied by dogs, cats, birds, and small children. The sheer
intellect of these collected pieces will renew your faith in dogs.
Is Your Cat Too Fat?
by Bronwen Meredith
Too fat for what? And what business is it of this Meredith person's
anyway? Bronwen sounds like the kind of lady I wouldn't like at all.