Monday morning, there’s a jaguar on my patio. She feasts on a doe. But jaguars don’t live here. Deer, though, do. It’s a blue sky day, but it snows, lightly. I brew my morning coffee, toast two slices of rye, and she stops eating; watches me, makes no move for the sliding glass doors. She lounges. I spread blackberry jam on my toast. I eat. I drink two cups. She still watches me. She’s wary.
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I sit on my living room couch. Red velvet. Maybe I should invite her in. There’s plenty of room for her to rest. She sleeps on the other end of the patio from where she ate. The deer’s bones are licked clean. Not a scrap of meat remains. She was meticulous. No wonder she naps. I scroll twitter, news sites. I’m in a down mood. I watch her. She knows I watch and opens one eye. She closes it again. She’s still, but I’m antsy. What to do? I fidget, can’t stop watching her.
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It’s afternoon. I went out for a few groceries around noon. When I came home she was gone. Two hours have passed. Still, she’s gone. I wonder if she’ll come back. Then I wonder if she was really there. The deer’s bones are also gone. I fold some clean laundry in my bedroom. I hope she comes back, I think. I mean, if she was ever there in the first place. Did it really snow? It’s June, and this is New Jersey.
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I’m back on my couch. I long for a smoke, but I’m trying to quit. I only have two cigarettes left. I hid them on myself. So silly. I pick up my book. I’m reading Lee Child. The Hard Way. Nonstop action. I used to think I’d like to marry someone like him. But he’d make a terrible husband. Always on the road. He’d never call. I’ve never been married. You can probably tell. I’m thirty seven, happy by myself. Or at least I’m happy most of the time.
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I can’t get into this book. I keep looking up to see if the big cat has come back. I’m tempted to name her if she does. But she doesn’t belong to me, even if she comes back to stay. She belongs to no one. And this is the kind of jungle she isn’t used to. She might be homesick. I would be. I pick up my copy of Heart of Darkness, Conrad. Maybe it’ll be better. Sorry, Lee.
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It’s Monday, still, 8:15 pm. I’m on vacation, and have a date, but I cancel. Darrell is a good guy; a lot of fun, but I’m not in the mood. I say I’m not feeling well, but he knows that’s code for, I want to stay home and read with a couple of gin and tonics. Really, I’m waiting to see if Athena comes back. I haven’t named her, exactly. I just need to call her something besides The Cat. She likely won’t come back anyway.
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I finish my book, and I’m in bed by 10:30. It was snowing this morning, but now I need the air conditioner. It’s 83F outside, but oh so humid. I sleep soundly, and when I wake up, I go out to my living room, and she’s out there. On my patio with another deer. This one’s a little bigger. She’s about half done, and I can tell she’ll save none for later. She’ll eat her fill, then I’ll invite her in. What does one offer a jaguar? A place to relax and be herself?
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I make myself a bacon and cheese omelet, sourdough toast, and I drink three cups of coffee. I feel like celebrating. I don’t worry that I might be hallucinating. Maybe I’ll call Darrell and invite him over. I did tell him I was thinking about adopting a cat.
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But when I finish my breakfast, I look out and see that she’s gone, and so, I see, are her leftovers. Maybe she went back to her real home, though she would have been welcome here. I’ve a feeling she won’t come back this time. I got to live kind of a fairy tale for a day or so though.
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Around 3 in the afternoon, I get a call from my friend, Alicia, who lives three blocks away. She says, Diane, guess what I saw in my backyard this morning?! You’ll never believe it!
And I say, oh Alicia, I might just believe you. **
Rebellious Hazelnuts 