The Story of Tom and Monica: A San Francisco Serial Memoir
Part 15, 1st of 2 sections
(The Story of Hissy and Monica)
This story is written as a series: you can start here
Sometimes the shifts are almost imperceptible, little quivers deep below the surface. When friends ask me how I am, I pause. I need to take inventory before I cautiously answer . At other times the jolts are sudden, closer to the skin and I am forced into an immediate evaluation of my life: I am alive. I am here. But also, I am fragile and temporal. Things are changing too quickly, the very ground I stand on is shaky and unpredictable.
One of my cats died very suddenly on Sunday. Hissy Fit showed up at our front door a few years ago meowing and hissing frantically. Against everyone’s better judgment I gave her a bowl of food, which she consumed in minutes. Of course, in no time she was back again and for over a year that was pretty much the extent of our relationship. Sometimes, when it was cold or rainy, I would make little shelter beds for her to sleep in, but I was scared of her. She would come up to me, she didn’t seem afraid of me, but she would suddenly lash out with hisses and claws. Our dynamic reminded me of the Joni Mitchell song ‘Oh, Canada’: “I’m frightened by the devil and I’m drawn to those ones that ain’t afraid…..Go to him, stay with him if you can…
