Lurking In The Shadows

 

I like this photograph of my cat, Monkey, taken from behind as he gazes upon his court.  The light casting a mighty shadow so that we fail to see the intricate designs of his striped back, replacing it with darkness and mystery.

The other morning as I drove to work, I'd just rounded the corner from my street onto the main drag that takes me westward.  Like so many mornings before, I saw a couple rabbits scampering across the street into the adjacent park.  It's a large park, large enough that a small group of rabbits could probably live long happy lives there without ever having to leave the safety of it's perimeter.  "Be careful, rabbits." I always say.  In addition to the lively scampering of this indigenous wildlife, sadly I also see many tattered corpses that didn't fair too well crossing the boulevard.

I got to thinking, driving up the street, listening to whatever was on the radio at the time, "What DO rabbits do all day?"  Good question, right?  The sun breaks through the morning dawn, shining light down on the world and these rabbits awaken from their slumber and begin foraging for food.  Do they do that all day long?  Just eat, sleep, and shit.  Then my thoughts came back to something, or someone, dear to my heart.  My boy, Monkey.  What does he do, all day long? 

Same thing, only there's four walls and a roof protecting him from the elements and possible predation.  That aside, he lives the same mundane life as those rabbits.  Eat, sleep, shit, repeat.  Only advantage Monkey has over the rabbits, aside from the structure that he resides in, is guaranteed meals and snuggle time with yours truly, Daddy.

There are times, however, when I'm home and I cannot find that cat anywhere.  It's like he just vaporizes then reappears when it's convenient.  It's magical.  Does Monkey have special abilities that he's hiding from me?  Am I not trustworthy enough to keep his secrets?

The other night I was having trouble going to sleep.  For the fourteen years that Monkey has been alive and living with me, we always go to bed at the same time, snuggle a little before I doze off and he retires to his corner at the foot of the bed.  So when I wake up in the middle of the night, I can glance down and see his shadowy form snoring in the corner and all feels right and I'm able to fall back asleep with ease.  On this particular night, just three sleeps ago, I woke up and Monkey was nowhere to be seen.  I got up to get a drink from the fridge and in my travels, failed to see Monkey lying in any of his preferred spots that pepper the household.  It wasn't until nearly a half hour later that I felt him jump onto the bed, murmur a little meow of acknowledgement and returned to his corner, like nothing had transpired.

I rolled up next to him and started stroking his back, from neck to tail and chatting him up.  I asked questions like "Where do you go?" and "What are you doing?"  Then mid-query, I realized something imperative.  If you look at the distinctive markings on Monkey's face, it's almost too obvious.  Much like Clark Kent wears a cheap pair of glasses to hide the fact that he's actually Superman, Monkey hides his secret identity by looking like a cute kitty cat with that unique triangular white patch on his face.

(Please forgive me for getting off-topic, but HOW stupid are the people in Metropolis that they can't see through that shitty disguise?)

I'm lying next to my cat, on top of the covers, stroking his fur and listening to his gentle rhythmic purr when I realized, "I've never seen Batman and Monkey in the same room...  I wonder.  Is it possible?"  All those nights when I came downstairs because he was absent and I did see him, seated on the back to the armchair, gazing out over his world, looking for neerdowells and riff-raff, poised to leap into hand-to-hand combat at a moments notice.

If you take a moment to really look and analyze the pictures of the Caped Crusader versus Monkey, you'll have to agree the resemblance is uncanny.  I think my cat is a superhero, watching over and protecting his land.  If he chooses not to share that life and burden with me, then I'm sure Monkey has his reasons.  Perhaps it's out of love and wishes to protect me from those who wish to do him harm.  I can appreciate that and I thank him for the security he provides.