Coyote Ugly



I was sitting Zazen … which lately is a euphemism for being in an over-tired zoned out mind warp while watching my IMVU avatar loop micro-gestures (smile, nod, cast eyes down … and repeat) … when I heard the unmistakable sound of a cat in heat outside my window.  MerrrArrrRuuuuu …. MerrrArrrRuuu-uuu-uuu.  I could say it is an odd way to pick up guys, but I’ve seen comparable moves within the context of this social networking obsession so I figure, live and let live — whatever works in the moment.  My eyes glanced to the open window across the room.  MerrrArrrRuuuuu.  While the cat call may be well suited to attract a mate for the night, I knew that it was also dinner music for the coyotes who are always on the prowl looking for their next meal.  And tonight … cat food was on the local venue menu.

I quickly typed my BRB in the room I was in … which really didn’t matter since I’m pretty sure the other avatar was sleeping … and went downstairs to see if I could find the feline nightingale before she drew a crowd.  The little pup offered to come “help”, but she’d just be another juicy morsel for the coyote pack which I was sure were on their way catching an upwind of pheromones in the cool night air.

I spotted a white shadow dart into the neighbors rose bushes and did my best domestic cat call … kiss, kiss, kiss, pss, pss, pss, pss, pss.  The ball of fluff spotted me and took off further under a parked car.  I approached slowly explaining to our show girl that it wasn’t safe for her to be peddling her wears under the full moon.  Kiss, kiss, kiss, pss, pss, pss, pss.  She looked up at me and dashed off between two houses.  I hoped she would find her way home.  An open window perhaps?  A garage door left ajar?  Maybe she would climb up a crepe myrtle and be safe until morning.

>Having failed my search and rescue, I made my way back to bed, lifted the laptop up upon my thighs and continued my Zen meditation.  Which translated into saying I was back from BRB, and returned to watch my avatar bat her eyes and smile in an aimless pavlovian loop of catty gestures.  And just as the Peace was settling in the room … a slight breeze came in through the open window that caught my attention and the stillness of the night was broken with the rebel yell of the coyote circle.  Dinner was served.  The yelps and yips echoed in the quarry.  It is quite a macab dinner show indeed.  I could hear a neighborhood dog barking wildly amist the yiff and howls of the kill.

Soon, all was quiet again.  I glanced at the computer screen and my avi looked non-plussed by the whole ordeal.  I closed my eyes and breathed deep as I bid the sweet cat good luck on her new journey.

Sometimes there is simply no changing what is destined to be.  Or so it seems in the moment.  We may see ourselves walking into the lions den, or coyote clutch, or IMVU drama pit … but we can’t seem to stop our footsteps as we repeat the same brain patterns that seem programmed to carry us into our next adventure.  Smile, nod, cast eyes down … and repeat.

We may consider that there must be a better way to avoid the blood shed we know awaits.  Yet we still choose the same subroutine, day after day, night after full moon maddness.Watching our mind.  Watching our actions.  Wishing at times things would be different.  Witnessing it all and peaking through our fingers as we press our palms tight against our eyes at the moment of the kill.  Not wanting to witness the slaughter and not willing to turn away.  Day after day, night after sleepless night under a moon full of the emptyness that marks the passage of time.   Smile, nod, cast eyes down … and repeat.

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