Cats gone by: Guilty Parties
My one-time cat-friends. I was looking though an old photo album for art subjects. These pics are from the ’90’s. My gang of white cats (I once had five) are all gone now, most having lived to nineteen. Lorenzo, the Maine Coon, used to sleep wrapped around the table leg like that. Seymour is peering over the hanging basket, tiny Bucky and cerebral Louis are the bag breachers. Lou was a smart kitty, who seemed always short of achieving cat zen because he tried to figure things out, and to communicate . . . clearly waiting to see results. Had he made himself understood about the refrigerator? Bucky was a perfect sweetie, so utterly at peace with the world, that he almost went into suspended animation at the end of his life, like the music master in Hesse’s The Glass Bead Game. Lorenzo was a great attention-seeker, holding his little arms up to be held and hugged . . . and Seymour had a habit of watching from the background.