Love Catharsis

He closed his eyes to fully enjoy her humming Mozart’s Symphony No. 40 as she walked toward the bedroom.

Mary told Simon that his name meant “listener” in Hebrew and “flat nose” in Greek. Both fit.

On the days when Mary was not caught at work, they spent their evening together. They took turns choosing the books from Mary’s vast library. Simon usually rubbed his nose against his preferred literature, and Mary read it aloud. Last night, it was her choice. He had to listen to some teary romance, which was totally out of Mary’s character, but he was stoic to his Hebrew name and tolerated Jojo Moyes’s sad ending. Today was his choice, and he didn’t like the prospect of spending the evening alone.

Did she say yes to the dinner offer? Without a second to lose, Simon jumped on the counter. Mary’s phone was locked. A cat’s paw was no match for the human finger, but his dry nose was. Mary’s screensaver showed Simon sitting on a stack of books—royal posture, elegant tail. A few more touches on the passcode screen—Shakespeare’s birthday—and the message feed appeared.

Vergenius: Vegetarians have to eat, too, right?

Mary: Well, I’d planned to rest at home after a long day of meetings.

Vergenius: They make an excellent eggplant sandwich with tahini spread.

Mary: Sounds tasty.

Vergenius: Great food without a glass of wine? Waste of time.

Mary: Is that a quote from Plautus.

Vergenius: No, from me.

Mary: You twisted my arm. 8:00 p.m. it is.

A cold hand wrapped around Simon’s heart, and a pang of jealousy froze his front paws. Then, the cell phone screen went black. Would she sacrifice their evening together for a vegetable sandwich and The Frenchman’s company?

He wanted to type "change plans" with his nose but heard wet steps approaching the kitchen.

Slick as moonlight and fast as a panther, Simon flew to the floor toward the bookshelves. He watched Mary—fresh as morning dew with a wet towel around her head—fidgeting with the coffee machine. Brazilian roast tickled his nostrils. Then, without turning her head, she cooed, "Simon, dear, I’m going out tonight. We will read your book tomorrow."

Mary turned around with a steaming mug of coffee and pink cheeks to find Simon sitting on the book he had knocked from the bookshelf. The spine read The Truth and Other Lies by Sascha Arango.

* * *

Mary left for work, “forgetting” the book Who Moved My Cheese on the coffee table and placing a magazine with the page left open on the article Thriving through change on the windowsill—his favorite spot during the day.

Simon knocked the book to the floor.

He read the article.

Only then did he knock the magazine to the floor.

Cassy, a twenty-five-year-old college student and part-time maid, showed up at 5:00 p.m. to clean his litter box, refresh the water in his drinking fountain, and open a can of salmon pâté. To his silent dismay, she pushed two vitamins inside his food. But he wasn’t a fool. He dug the vitamins out and hid them under the couch. In protest, he decided to leave his food untouched until his stomach, weak from Mary’s forced diet, changed his mind.

“Simple pleasures are the last healthy refuge in a complex world,” said Oscar Wilde.

So, he ate the pâté while playing different scenarios in his head of how to get rid of Mary’s newly obtained boyfriend.

Cassy read to him and petted him too. Unfortunately, she read from Facebook, not content Simon would appreciate. Her petting was even worse; she only used one hand while holding her phone in the other. That didn’t count as love. It was half-love.

Simon concluded that both actions were likely in her job description, and he didn’t enjoy either of them.

When Cassy left, Simon watched an episode of Big Cats Tales on the Discovery Channel. Even a toddler knew how to turn on the TV. Simon was two, which was twenty-four human years. Using his paws and nose, he could operate a remote control and cellphone, take a ride on a robot vacuum cleaner, and—his favorite pastime—watch the swirling water in the flushing toilet. Mary kept the bathroom door shut when her utility bill went up.