| Bukowski

History
detail for "History":
"The History of One Tough
Motherfucker" by Charles Bukowski
he came to the door one night wet thin
beaten and terrorized a white cross-eyed tailless cat I took him in
and fed him and he stayed grew to trust me until a friend drove up the
driveway and ran him over I took what was left to a vet who said,
"not much chance...give him these pills...his backbone is
crushed, but is was crushed before and somehow mended, if he lives
he'll never walk, look at these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the
pellets are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody cut it
off..." I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom floor, gave him water
and pills, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my
finger into it and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to him and gently
touched him and he looked back at me with those pale blue crossed eyes
and as the days went by he made his first move dragging himself
forward by his front legs (the rear ones wouldn't work) he made it to
the litter box crawled over and in, it was like the trumpet of
possible victory blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I related
to that cat-I'd had it bad, not that bad but bad enough one morning he
got up, stood up, fell back down and just looked at me. "you can
make it," I said to him. he kept trying, getting up falling down,
finally he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the rear legs just
didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested, then got up. you know
the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed almost toothless, but
the grace is back, and that look in his eyes never left... and now
sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about life and literature
and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed, shot, runover de-tailed cat
and I say, "look, look at this!" but they don't understand,
they say something like, "you say you've been influenced by
Celine?" "no," I hold the cat up, "by what
happens, by things like this, by this, by this!" I shake the cat,
hold him up in the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...
it's then that the interviews end although I am proud sometimes when I
see the pictures later and there I am and there is the cat and we are
photo- graphed together. he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow
it all helps.
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