Lately i've resorted to bribery to get the rebelangel to write in a journal or to draw pictures that compare this life with her old one.
I keep thinking she's gonna blow up or melt down in reaction to the crazy-crazy she sees every day -- but nope. Not even when we see cats in a plastic bag.
Stray dogs are a regular sight around here; they follow my scent of just-eaten food as i walk my former stray around the block, they come to the gate and give us the sweet eyes that signal they'd just love that morsel we're eating. It's not easy to deny them or to want to rescue all of them, but we're getting used to their flea-bitten presence. The maid doesn't like it, so i try not to let her see me putting scraps around the corner of the house, on the side of the street where old diapers and castoff concrete from the local sewer project tends to accumulate.
But then today, the cats in a bag. We were rounding diaper-corner, returning from an afternoon walk when we saw a man near our door. As we walked up our step, he held up his yellow plastic bag -- barely transparent enough for us to see a litter of kittens smooshed together inside -- and asked me if i wanted to buy them. He held the bag tightly with a fist, cinching it completely in his sweaty-black paw. The kittens' poor faces smeared against the bag. They flopped on top of each other in all sorts of uncomfortable configurations.
"Aire!" I said, seeing one kitten pawing at the sides of the bag. "Ellos necesitan aire!" They need air! Cat man then opened the bag, asking me again if i would buy them, telling me they did have air. No, no they didn't i said, and i don't want them. Yes i do. No i don't. No i don't want you to kill them, cat man, inside that wretched bag. Cat man looked at me with the same eyes that the dogs have when they're asking for food -- as if i should take them simply because i felt sorry for him. No.
We got inside and had to sit down for a little while. Once again i plied and pleaded and asked rebelangel would she like to process her feelings, somehow, especially since earlier she'd also been a little rattled seeing the neighbor's baby rabbits in a box, and then finding out they planned to eat them?
Nope. None of it. She'd rather just think about it on her own, in private, she said. I am trying to help her, but she is not me, i admit -- so when it comes to putting something to the page, i guess that's only my way of dealing with cats in a bag.