Day 250 of Project 365: Me and my alien.

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Nearly twenty years ago she crash-landed on Earth. I couldn’t pronounce her alien name but “Tazendra” works all right. If I promise to fork over the food she begrudgingly allows me to cuddle her for a few minutes at a time. It’s a good arrangement.

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Writing from: my cuddly study in Portland. Listening to: Zen take a vigorous bath.

Day 240 of Project 365: Pet names.

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Like many pet owners, I have a million nicknames for my cat. I have so many nicknames for Zen that I rarely call her by her actual name. Currently the frontrunner is Chimichanga. She resembles a deep-fried burrito, no?

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N.B. The Wikipedia entry for “chimichanga” is unexpectedly and delightfully thorough.

Day 238 of Project 365: Gingerly, gracefully.

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Ginger isn’t as pliable, as needy as Zen is. Although Ginger must walk like other cats from place to place I often think of her as floating, or drifting, appearing again on the horizon. Just out of reach. A mirage, even.

Sometimes I will look down from where I sit to find Ginger looking at me. The look has more weight to it; I give it weight. She doesn’t seem particularly curious about my motives, but she observes. She notices.

Tonight Ginger fell asleep near me on the sofa and her paws, all four, and her face too, everything was all at once in action. Twitching, pulsing. Fascinated, I watched her dreams of inhabiting a younger set of bones and tendons. Her back paws curled up as if she tensed to launch. I pictured her on a night-drenched mesa, stalking the scent of lizard.

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Writing from: my study. Listening to: “Incandescent” by Astronoid.