The Barn Cat

There was once a large old orange tom cat living in an old delapitated red barn that belonged to my neighbors Daisy and Eddie, a charming couple who were farmers but now are extremely old and getting ready to sell their place to move closer to their children in Las Vegas. I heard about the old tom cat before from Daisy and she said he used to be a good mouser at one point but had become horribly lethargical in his old age.

He emerged in a shaft of golden sunlight shining brightly through the barn's open doorway when I first saw him. I had gone to give Daisy a letter that the mail lady had accidentally delivered to my address, which occurred rather too frequently of late. I knocked on her door and when she answered, she saw me and immediately knew why I'd come because, like I said, it happened a lot. She was wearing a white sundress, her long wavy white hair was falling down around her shoulders, as usual. She looked enchanting. I handed her the letter and she smiled and simply said, "Thank you."

No explanation was required.

I turned to go and she said, "Oh. Um Maggie, dear."

I turned back. "Yes?"

"Do you want the old barn cat?"

"I know you are such a busy young working woman, but you live alone and that cat would not be too much trouble. He's very independent and low maintenance as most cats are. I hate to ask, but I'm very worried about him. We can't take him with us to Vegas because the landlord of the house we're renting won't allow pets. He's a pretty healthy cat, but I think he may be getting too old to hunt and the people who are buying this place have several dogs and that old cat's not ever been around dogs."

I was silent for a moment, then on a whim, I looked at her and said,

"Yes. Yes I will."

"Her pale blue eyes immediately lit up. Oh good! Thank you so much, dear!"

"I believe if you will bring him some food, he might just follow you to your house since it's not too far down the road."

"Okay Daisy. I'll try but it'll probably be after work tomorrow night." I told her.

"That's fine dear. Bye now." she said and shut the door.

So I walked back to the barn to see if the cat was still there lying in the sunlight.

It was a summer evening in August's dog days, the most trying period old fat cats have to withstand, because cats are warm in blood and their mettle is tested during those hot and lengthy days. On these warm summer days, cats normally find a shady place to relax until they get more active in the night. But there he was, still lying in the shaft of sunlight. He seemed to like the sun on that particular summer eve. Thankfully, a cool wind blew through the barn's open doorway, heralding the arrival of Fall and the end of these brutal dog days. I was curiously drawn to this enormous cat. I entered the barn through the open door and walked to where he was sleeping, which was only a few steps inside the barn in the center of the wooden floor. As I proceeded, the boards creaked loudly, scaring the cat. His eyes snapped wide, and his head shot up. His gaze seemed to pierce my eyes. He had lovely golden-colored eyes. Even though I'd scared him, I was relieved he didn't flee.

I had no idea what his name was. Daisy never even gave him a name.

I slowly sat down cross legged on the dirty floor boards rather close to him. Here I am, a young, skinny, country gal

dressed in my old cut off jeans and a bright green and white striped tube top and barefoot, my long strawberry blonde hair pulled up in a pony tail. Everything appears typical but I know that underneath appearances, normalcy is shifting. Not only my world, but in the world at large. I'm not stressed about the changes currently taking place on the planet right now though. I find it all very exciting.

Anywho... I am sitting there by this huge old orange tom cat and he's still staring at me. He then yawns, breaking the stare. With his eyes still shut, he slowly rises up into a most noble sitting cat posture. Then, after a few moments, he opens his golden eyes again and we're now both in the golden sunlight of the now setting sun. The entire barn is now illuminated by the light of the setting sun.

"You humans still have much to learn."

He speaks and I just about fall over.

"Am I finally losing it?" I wonder to myself.

"Calm down. No, you're not losing it. I really am speaking to you."

Apparently, he can read my mind too!

I start to say something but I can't seem to form words correctly so I just stare into his golden eyes, totally stunned.

"I have a message for you humans." he continues speaking.

"Y'all must get over yourselves immediately." he says and yawns again.

"These constructs you've built with the consensus of your minds are now dissolving because you are out of harmony with one another."

"Take this red barn we're sitting in right now. Most people associate red barns with goodness and the fact that it's delapitated, as many barns on farms now are, the goodness is delapitated as well. That is a construct. For some, especially farm animals, barns don't bring up happiness, but trauma. The positive construct is created by the color red evoking a positive memory for some people and for others, anguish. This is the nature of reality. Things and concepts dissolve and you think it's the end of the world, but it's not. The real ending is in your mind. The real ending is actually your mind. Soon, chaos will ensue. However, for those who aren't emotionally attached to things the ending won't be taken as hard. My advice is for you is to lean on love frequently until you learn to lean on it constantly. Like it says in the song, "Lean On Me," the sky may seem to tumble and fall, so don't cry and don't be afraid because you'll still have the light of the moon. This is where your safety resides. Not in physicality, but in love."

"Also," he continued, "please stop feeding your children tons of sugar and then putting them on Ritalin because they are so hyped up from all the sugar you gave them. Stop telling them that they are wicked because they are hyperactive from a poor diet."

"Um, okay." is all I can say.

"We cats too have varied colors but because of the colours, we don't segregate and make groups like you people.

"For now, this is all I have to say."

"Would you like to walk home with me?" I asked him.

He's not responding. For now, his speech episode appears to have ceased.

He follows me out of the barn.

I looked up and saw storm clouds developing in the skies of Oklahoma.