Please… My Cat, She’s Singing ‘Memory’

Not once have I left her alone in the moonlight.

Photo by Asique Alam on Unsplash

“You have reached the Hillview Veterinary Clinic after hours. Please leave a message including your name, your pet’s name, and a brief description of your pet’s symptoms. The doctor will return your call as soon as possible.”

Yes, hi. This is Susan Gilligan calling about my European shorthair Chickpea. She’s… singing.

I don’t think it’s serious necessarily, it’s just, well, odd behavior. I didn’t even know she could speak English, let alone could carry a tune.

What’s more worrisome is what she’s singing about — how she used to feel beautiful and happy. Maybe she has low self-esteem? Or maybe she’s depressed. Can cats have a little Zoloft? As a treatment?

Now she’s singing about streetlamps. She really seems to connect with lyrics about life on the streets considering she’s an indoor cat. And my apartment window faces a brick wall. Not sure where she’s getting that.

Then again, she was a rescue.

Well, whatever lives she’s lived, she doesn’t seem to want any memory of them. That theme keeps coming up a lot. What are the signs of feline dementia?

Anyway, Chickpea is up to date on her all her shots. Oh, but she refuses to swallow those pills that prevent Jellicle worms. Could that be it?

She seems to be in need of daylight. Unclear if she means the actual sun or spiritual rebirth. Do cats get Seasonal Affective Disorder? Do they understand metaphor? Should I buy her a light therapy box?

Shit, she just collapsed! What do I do? What do I do?! My sweet Chickpea!

Hang on, she’s singing again.

Yeah, she just propped herself up and transitioned to the bridge without missing a beat.

Now Chickpea’s belting “touch me” but I’m afraid to touch her. Last time she had a rash, giving her scritches only made it worse. Are show tunes a symptom of rashes?

Then again, the way she effortlessly hit that high C sharp makes me think she’s in pretty good shape.

She just sang that new day has begun — metaphor or not, she’s right, it’s just after midnight. She can sing and tell time. Who knew?

And now she’s holding still and looking into the distance as though to the upper mezzanine of a theater. Should I applaud? I’m going to applaud.

Okay, Chickpea just took a bow and seems fine. I guess I’ll call back if she displays any new symptoms. Or if there’s an encore.

A writer and editor living, laughing, and loving in the NYC suburbs.

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