Brumous Siam: The First Crew

We cats owe our nine lives to more than just our ability as escape artists. We have nine lives because when we dream, we are the guardians at the nine inter-dimensional gates. It has always been so. It is why the Egyptians, who were a highly evolved people, worshipped us. And that is why Pharaoh Siam gave me an infinite number of lives.

Allow me to introduce myself. I am Brumous Siam and as I told you last week, I am not a good cat. I am too fond of catnip and mollys. You will not find me curled up next to your fireplace or artfully arranged on your cushions. You will not feel me rub against your leg or hear me purr in your lap. But you will enjoy all these things with other cats because I make it possible.

Which is why I have been called to Harrisonburg. The bladed crystal suzerain of the fourth dimension is coming here. Lususnaturae of Selofaine, the colorless world, aches for the richness, the dazzling chroma of our world. And he will have it, unless I stop him.

To that end, I am gathering my crew from the fine clowder at the Cat's Cradle. Boris, the grey ghost, had a rough time of it as a lad, but he's still willing to risk one of his eight remaining lives on this adventure. I take it very seriously when it comes to that. Nine lives can go pretty fast, and no one knows it better than someone who has an infinite number. The lifespan for one is a pawprint for another.

Boris will head my first team and three charming mollys will lend a paw. Casseopeia is a gorgeous silvery-white cat with blue eyes. When she sits in the sun with her tail curled around her front paws and eyes closed, I think of Egypt. But it's her brains we'll be using, for she is a crackerjack linguist. It’s the Siamese in her. Sheena is a little manx minx with calico camo, perfect for undercover operations. Brie is a tortoise-and-Siamese mix graced with amazing tanzanite eyes. She has been tragically de-clawed, but it is her powers of observation that we need.

It was Brie who first saw the dimple hidden in the blue sky. It was only a pinpoint but as she watched, there were two nearly invisible pulses in the light around it and she knew: Lususnaturae was making another attempt to wormhole his way into our world. The light shifts were two of his scouts threading their way through the nanotube they have opened between our dimensions.

We have met before, the scouts and I. Hyaline is a polished operator, but completely degenerate. To listen to her is to skate with razor blades on a dangerously thin shell of deception. Hyaloid is a shape-shifter. His favorite disguise is to ice himself over an object or another living being, even a human eye. And if you were his victim, you would neither see nor feel him. Only the superior oculus of an experienced cat can catch the minute change he causes in the refraction of light.

The Hyal twins are here to make the wormhole large enough to accommodate the suzerain of Selofaine, a job that will take many months. But unlike Lususnaturae, the twins do not love our world. We are fortunate to have these days of constant rain and gray skies because the watery heavens remind them of Selofaine. Homesick Hyaline will be unable to resist swimming unseen in swollen creeks and rivulets, while wistful Hyaloid will play among you as a shower of raindrops or a puddle in the sidewalk. While they play, we will practice, and when the sun restores their visibility, we will be ready.

© Silver Cat Works

Brumous Siam: The Beginning

"There are times when a wide and silver moon rises above banks of iron clouds to illume their churning edges with lambent pearls…nights like that are, as any feline knows, the calling card for Brumous Siam."

It was my howl that inspired Allen Ginsberg. It was my grin Lewis Carroll drew on the Cheshire cat. It was my purr that moved Tibetan monks to chant. It was my profile Egyptians worshipped. But these are not the reasons I was called to Harrisonburg.

It began in the time of Pharaoh Siamun when the sun and Sirius rose together on the first day of Dhwt in the year 980 B.C. I was slumbering in my temple when the incense smoke, which had been rising in peaceful columns, suddenly twisted toward the ground as if trying to escape the terrifying shriek that clawed the air. When I saw the humans and dogs acting as if nothing had happened, I knew it was a frequency beyond their capabilities, a creature beyond their perceptions. Something was tearing into our dimension. Nothing was visible, so I opened my mouth to amplify the odors and there it was: the sharp, glassy smell of Lususnaturae.

Lususnaturae of Selofaine, the fourth dimension, the transparent world. To us, it looks as if it were made of glass and water. Smudged memories of color exist at certain angles, but disappear if you look too closely. Even the inter-dimensional barrier is transparent: they can see us. And to them, we are a dazzling, irresistible riot of color. And Lususnaturae, ruler of Selofaine, craves color. He would give up his throne to live here, but it is not allowed. There are beings of other dimensions who can and do immigrate to Earth, but no being from Selofaine is allowed. Their bodies are like crystals bristling with razor sharp edges. And they are large, almost 15 feet wide. Imagine the damage such a bladed creature could do walking down our sidewalks, hiking through our woods or swimming in our waters. Lususnaturae doesn't care. Red is his favorite color.

When he first arrived near my temple in the desert of Egypt, he appeared as a ghostly cloud, a shimmer of brilliance in the wide blue sky. Then he dropped to the desert like a mirage. It took six months, but we sent him back to Selofaine. That is when I discovered my talent, and that is when Pharaoh extended my nine lives to infinite because he knew that Lususnaturae would return.

And now Lususnaturae is coming here. I am gathering my frontline crew from the fine clowder of felines at Cat's Cradle. But your cat will also work with us. The next time you see your kitty sleeping, feet twitching in hot pursuit, don't lull yourself into the tender reflection that he is mousing. He is not. He is guarding your world. And the next time you think your cat is staring at nothing in particular, remember this: it is the duty of all felines to repair the small inter-dimensional leaks that occur almost daily. A simple glare from our magic eyes will do it. But when the leak becomes a flood, the call goes out for Brumous Siam. I am not a good cat. But I am very good at what I do.

© Silver Cat Works

Caught in the Act

I promised Freddie I would have this blog up by 9AM this morning and it would have been, too, if Josie hadn't worked so late on the night I was supposed to write it. I don't know what she was thinking. She cut off the storefront lights, headed to the back room, and sat down at my computer for hours!

It wasn't just my blog that was delayed – it was our entire cat business agenda. We are nocturnal, after all. Superb night vision, sensitive hearing, an exquisite sense of smell…you get the picture. The point I'm trying to make here is that for us, it was nerve-racking to be in the glorious dark, yet unable to exercise these primo night skills. Especially at a time when there was so much depending on them.

Ultimately we had to ignore Josie's disregard for protocol (she was, after all, working for us) and get down to cat business, albeit with the utmost silence so that Josie could continue typing away, blissfully unaware of our front-room activities. After a few diligent hours, we agreed to take a feline break and the moment we did, Josie popped out of the back room and flicked on the light!

There I was, balancing on a teeny-weeny ledge heading to Little Man's crate for a bite of kitten chow. It was really embarrassing, but I just wanted some comfort food and it's not as if Little Man cared. He was too busy playing with the other kitties in the window, which, of course, was another complete surprise for Josie since Little Man is usually hiding in his crate. Then she saw the desk drawer kitty, Cassiopeia, lounging in the middle of the floor with a big grin on her face. Why? Because the bashful Velveteen cat was industriously licking the itty-bitty Cinnamon kitty. At that point, Josie just laughed out loud and asked what we'd done with her demure daytime felines.

We all breathed a sigh of relief. Our ploy was working. Even though Josie had caught us in the act, she didn't really know what the act was. Humans aren't very good at keeping secrets and it was important to keep this quiet…until tonight.

Anyway, as soon as Josie left I jumped on the computer while Little Man and the gang dashed back into our preparations. Several nights later, I'm proud to say that we are ready – and just in the nick of time. Because tonight there is a wide and silver moon rising above banks of iron clouds to illume their churning edges with lambent pearls…which is, as any feline knows, the calling card for Brumous Siam. It means that he is due at the stroke of midnight. Suffice it to say that life around here is about to get a lot more exciting in 2010. So from all of us to all of you – have a very Happy New Year!