Disappearing Things

At my house we've been facing a very abnormal phenomenon. Things disappear. One of the cats disappeared the other day. The house was combed with the efficiency of a forensic team to find out where he's hiding but to no avail. We used almost all senses known to man to uncover the location of that lost cat, touch, hearing, speech and sight. We searched all places, and specially the dining room and the reception. A few hours later, sitting at the dining table with my laptop I heard the sound of a cat, and out he comes from underneath the table.

That he reappeared after a long while is in itself not so puzzling, for as a cat, he could have probably moved to several locations and there was probably a plausible explanation for all of this. But what really compounds the effect of this disappearance is that it has happened before with various other objects.

We were missing a pair of glasses that disappeared in a similar manner, we searched the house thoroughly, but since they were a pair of glasses they could have been lost, I grant you that. The trouble is that they reappeared after several months, and the manner in which they did is enigmatic. While my mom was vacuuming the house, the vacuum cleaner found in its path those glasses, and the place where we found them was the corridor that joins the reception to the bedrooms. Now this is a corridor that we use a lot needless to say, and the fact that no one saw them or even stamped on them is ridiculous. What makes it even worse is that sometimes we need to collect some cat hair from the ground and look intently to see that it's been cleaned.

But if that's not enough, the same incident happened again with a pair of sunglasses. Lost for several weeks, the reappeared again behind the computer table. This is a place where most of the photos I hang with blue tack keep falling and I have to collect them and put them up again. Again it's one of the places we've searched for cats, photos and the sunglasses. The manner in which the sunglasses were found is that we looked and found them. They weren't hidden and there was no possibility of them having been there all along.

In any case, after having described flatland to my mom, she's convinced that there exists a forth dimension that these objects visit. I keep telling her that we're not inside a movie for these things to happen, but her counter argument is better… they did. Sometimes logic is illogical based on evidence, and maybe it's incomplete evidence and there's a plausible explanation but to be honest the constant reoccurrence of these incidents is a bit troubling. Not that I'm troubled as in worried, but it's just nice to see that there's more to life than we can really see.

My Cat Is Deaf

My cat is deaf and it can’t hear anything. He has a name, ‘junior’ but it’s not of much use since I can’t call on him to come or anything. But it’s still comforting to give him a name that he doesn’t understand to refer to him, after all, I do talk about him and I do talk to him even though he doesn’t hear. There’s some hidden benefit to him having a name that’s not directly visible.

But the thing is that sound does not exist for him. I used to feel sorry for him, but a friend of mine said, “Why should I feel sorry for him? God created him that way.” He’s a white beautiful cat and sometimes those white beautiful cats are born that way. I don’t feel sorry for him because he doesn’t feel he’s missing out on sounds. His world exists using one less sensory perception, or one less dimension.

Another reason I don’t feel sorry for my cat is that as humans we may be living happily with a similar lack. There may be some things that exist out there that we just can’t perceive, can’t pick up, can’t sense. We may have some clue to it, but it doesn’t seem to exist in our world. When I whisper in junior’s ears he can feel the air out of my mouth but not the sound. When I snap my fingers he can sense the movement or even see it, but not hear it. He has clues to its existence but he would not know what it means to hear. He can only see my lips moving and my hands yelling, but he can’t hear me.

I don’t feel sorry for my cat because humans are deaf too, and some of them claim that no such thing as sound exists. This narrow thinking, based only on what we can capture, reminds me of creatures who lack certain senses but cannot compensate. My cat might be deaf, but it’s no fool. Wish I could say the same about all other humans.