You Tell Me – Day 552

Liminal Cat – Photo: L. Weikel

You Tell Me

Just up the road from the illustrious Woodpecker Condominiums, there’s a barn that both shelters a few horses and is home to at least a couple of cats. One of the horses has already proven to be a bit on of a flaky sort. You tell me whether the cats are of this world or not.

Yeah, yeah, I hear you thinking. What in the heck? Of course they’re ‘of this world.’ What are you talking about, woman? And what in the world does that even mean?!

Well.

Take a look at the photo at the top of this post. You tell me whether it’s photo-shopped or not. I swear it is not. Which begs the question: if it is not photo-shopped, why does it look entirely as if someone lifted a photo of a healthy happy cat and airlifted into a barnyard setting – and placed an aura of gold around said feline? You tell me it doesn’t look like it’s just ‘playing’ at being in this reality. “Yup, I’m here, human. Don’t look away! I might disappear. Heh heh heh.”

This particular four-legged beast has been elusive to my enthusiastic and loving, if prying, eyes for quite some time. Perhaps my affection has been mistaken for stalking as a result of my annoying efforts to snap a shot of it (and steal its soul?). It’s been over a year since I stepped up my walking and added a whole new route to my repertoire. All this time I’ve been thwarted in my efforts to capture this here now gone again tease.

But today was different.

A Game

Today felt different. It felt like this furry phantom was ready to give me proof that it’s a magical cat. A feline from elsewhere, if only just the liminal region of a parallel reality. Either that or it was just messing with my head, playing games with my emotions. Taunting me.

I must admit, I started getting suspicious when it moved not one jot as I kept up an appreciateive chatter while snapping photos. It refused to move. It just sat there, looking at me, turning its head only just slightly enough to maintain eye contact with me as I moved from its left to its right, all the while maintaining that odd projection of placid boredom, with just a hint of amusement on its face.

What Is Real?

There was the appearance of another ‘tell’ that might lend credence to the possibility that I’d entered into the universe of photo-shopped barn cats. A rainbow dog on the horizon that was eminently more visible to the naked eye than to the best close-up efforts of my iPhone.

You tell me. What is real?

Both? Neither? Am I making it all up as I go along?

You bet I am.

And so are you.

(T-559)