Cat on a Warm Wood Deck

On a recent plane trip, one of the movies offered was Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I vividly remember seeing that as a teenager, this Tennessee Williams story with Paul Newman, Elizabeth Taylor and Burl Ives. My main memory was a lot of adults shouting at each other and some excessive alcohol. I watched the trailer on the plane and it proved my memory to be correct. I decided I didn’t especially want to hang out these people for two hours and chose another movie. I didn’t feel like getting my cat’s feet burned on that hot tin roof.

 

I thought of this yesterday having lunch in the sun on my warm wood deck. There was a cat on the railing also basking in the sun and I had the good sense to observe her. I thought of Whitman’s lines from Song of Myself:

 

I think I could turn and live with animals, they are so placid and self-contain'd,

I stand and look at them long and long.

Taking this time to enjoy the sun with the cat, I could feel the return of that self often buried in to-do lists,

 not present when scrolling through the phone, blurred by the stress and anxieties of daily life. The cat’s 

contentment was my own at that moment, both of us just savoring a moment of deep peace warmed by 

the sun. For the cat, it is second nature—or rather, first nature. For us humans, we have to make a special 

effort to remember, to consciously decide to take time like this. Really, we are one confused species! Time

and time again, choosing to be hopping around on a hot tin roof over sitting contently on a warm wood deck.

As Whitman notes, again praising the animals: 

They do not sweat and whine about their condition,

They do not lie awake in the dark and weep for their sins,

They do not make me sick discussing their duty to God,

Not one is dissatisfied, not one is demented with the mania of owning things,

Not one kneels to another, nor to his kind that lived thousands of years ago,

Not one is respectable or unhappy over the whole earth.

He got that right! I haven’t had a pet cat for over 15 years now, but I hope the one who wandered into

my yard will come back again, reminding me to sit still and enjoy.