Extreme Cat Wrestling

Watching two young feline friends play-wrestle is one of the sweet things in life, but it's a good deal sweeter when they square off for a match up in a tree. Truth be told, I am a total sucker for cat fights, and this is not my first blip on the subject.

Here Fred, a/k/a the "Ginger Streak" is pounced upon by surprize when Nest, a/k/a the "Tabby Tornado," swoops down and gets him in a big squeeze. I'm not sure whether that's a kiss or a love-bite she's delivering, but he sure is taking notice of the little lady!

Only a few more days before I fly home, but these two scamps will not soon fade from my mind. They have me in a purr-manent head lock!

The occasion calls for a poem:

Curse of the Cat Woman
by Edward Field (1967)

It sometimes happens
that the woman you meet and fall in love with
is of that strange Transylvanian people
with an affinity for cats.

You take her to a restuarant, say, or a show,
on an ordinary date, being attracted
by the glitter in her slitty eyes and her catlike walk,
and afterwards of course you take her in your arms
and she turns into a black panther
and bites you to death.

Or perhaps you are saved in the nick of time
and she is tormented by the knowledge of her tendency:
That she daren't hug a man
unless she wants to risk clawing him up.

This puts you both in a difficult position--
panting lovers who are prevented from touching
not by bars but by circumstance:
You have terrible fights and say cruel things
for having the hots does not give you a sweet temper.

One night you are walking down a dark street
And hear the pad-pad of a panther following you,
but when you turn around there are only shadows,
or perhaps one shadow too many.

You approach, calling, "Who's there?"
and it leaps on you.
Luckily you have brought along your sword
and you stab it to death.

And before your eyes it turns into the woman you love,
her breast impaled on your sword,
her mouth dribbling blood saying she loved you
but couldn't help her tendency.

So death released her from the curse at last,
and you knew from the angelic smile on her dead face
that in spite of a life the devil owned,
love had won, and heaven pardoned her.