Can You Hear What I Hear?

 

We hear it all!

 

            Suzy and I were having one of those human/cat debates yesterday. You know the one where the cat wants one thing and you need to do something else? Hint; cats don’t care what you want to do.
            Yesterday, when Booker and Sweetie were otherwise occupied somewhere she wanted me to hold her. I did too! And I tried reasoning with her.
            “Suzy, I can’t sit here and hold you all day!” I implored.
            Snug in my arms, me holding her small toes in support, “Why not? It’s really nice!” she said.
            “I want to write something, and I can’t do it while keeping your toes warm,” I said.
            “I assume you’re talking about that thing you keep poking with your fingers,” she said. “Seems like a waste of time. What does it get you?” she said.
            “It’s how I talk to people who aren’t here,” I said, expecting trouble.
            “Ghosts?” she inquired, looking ready to run for it.
            “No. Living people,” I said.
            “How do you know?” she said, still tucked up in my arms.
            “They talk back,” I said weakly.
            “Oh ho, Lady! That shows what you don’t know. Ghosts do talk. I’ve heard them, mumbling away, hissing, and rattling things!” she said, darkly.
            “You’re kidding,” I said. “You hear that? Disgusting. No wonder you’re jumpy.”
            “Not all the time. I hear other stuff too. Like water moving through pipes. And all of these machines you have. They all buzz! To a cat, there is no such thing as silence. They say that if a Forest Giant is around that it gets really quiet. They’d have to prove it to me. I’ve never heard silence,” she said. “In fact, I don’t believe in it.”
            “Even I always hear something. Right now, it’s the fridge. If I think about it, I also hear cars, and an airplane. Normally, humans don’t attend to all of that background sound,” I said.
            “I’m not wired that way. I don’t shut it off. Hunters can’t afford to not pay attention,” she said. “So, where are these not-ghost invisible people you talk to by poking at that thing and watching little marks appear on that thing in front of your face?”
            “Oh, here and there, scattered around the country,” I said breezily. “Several live pretty near Toots, as you know, or should, Suzy.”
            In a bid to delay the inevitable, when she would have to get out of my arms, she said, “Say. Did you ever smell a Plaidie, one of those Fae folk who sneak around outside?”
            “I don’t know. What do they smell like, pray tell?” I said.
            “Grubby gold. It has a smell! And, something like the smell in a crawlspace, dank. Garlic. They eat it raw,” she said, eyes wide and staring.
            “I think you’re pulling my leg,” I laughed.
            “No! Really! Toots and I both smelled one last night. She said she did!” Suzy insisted.
            “Are you sure you didn’t just dream that?” I said.
            “But, Toots wouldn’t have the same dream!” she said.
            “I’m not sure about you two,” I said. “You might have the same dream! Now, skedaddle, Suzy, I need to poke at that thing, or it’ll be another bubble thread!
            So, she wandered off agreeably enough, leaving me to ponder a couple of things.

🙀