A Day in the Life of a Eunuch

The first morning noises wake him. Then again he could have been awake a while guarding what he is under the illusion to be his territory from the incursions of the black tom. On the other hand the black trespasser seems quite at ease asleep on the eunuch’s armchair.
After breakfast has been served to him, the eunuch walks out on a matter-of-fact morning patrol: down the garden, up the wall, round the bleeding bushes, up on the shed with the surfing board, good sniff at the crisp air, fuck the morning dew, it’s too cold out here. And the magpies are back. Chased by the territorial birds, he gallops to his flap. Back inside, the daily yogic stretches are performed on the coir mat in the kitchen, perfect for exercising all the toes while clawing at it. Ritual cleansing is the next absorbing activity for the eunuch to be carried out preferably in the sunny spot on the table.
Forget all the commonplace: cats in general (and the eunuch in particular) think they are Buddhists.
They practise meditation daily, for long periods and with fervour. Just sitting, contemplating the world around them in a state of perfect relaxation and sharp awareness is not a goal but a way of life. The periods of ‘sitting’ may last for hours with intervals of pure rest. Mere humans cannot fathom the difference between these two states.

But when dusk descends upon earth, the wild thing awakens.
The meek eunuch stretches and stands taller. He paces silently across the kitchen to his private entrance. He looks out into the world like a paratrooper ready to jump into enemy territory. He carefully noses his way through the flap and sits on the step. Already the dignity of his ancestors oozes from each and every stripe. No longer a meditating moggie, he’s a feral predator. A few more watchful steps. Another rekki. All being clear a quick trot will bring him to the border of his realm and beyond the neighbour’s shed. After that he is swallowed into the mysterious world of twilight.

Upon his return to the comforts of civilisation- the length of his absence depending on atmospheric conditions- he quickly peels off his tiger skin. The beast is thus transformed back into the bewildered looking tabby suffering from intestinal problems and, possibly, piles.

Pinzimonio