Sunday, December 27, 2009

Golluimna

"I daresay," said Sam. "But where have you been to – sneaking off and sneaking back, you old villain?"

Gollum withdrew himself, and a green glint flickered under his heavy lids.  Almost spider-like he looked now, crouched back on his bent limbs, with his protruding eyes. The fleeting moment had passed, beyond recall. "'Sneaking, sneaking!'" he hissed. "Hobbits always so polite, yes. O nice hobbits! Sméagol brings them up secret ways that nobody else could find. Tired he is, thirsty he is, yes thirsty; and he guides them and he searches for paths, and they say, 'sneak, sneak.' Very nice friends, O yes my precious, very nice."

Sam felt a bit remorseful, though not more trustful. "Sorry." he said. "I'm sorry, but you startled me out of my sleep. And I shouldn't have been sleeping, and that made me a bit sharp....Sorry. But where have you been to?"

"Sneaking
," said Gollum, and the green glint did not leave his eyes. 

 ***

When my little sister, Julia Rose, first encountered my cat, she looked into her flashing, light green eyes and declared, "Gollum!"  I dismissed her characterization and convinced her of what a nice kitty Little Miss Calico was.  As I've written before, my cat and Julia became fast friends, shortly thereafter, but I didn't forget what Julia initially said of her.

Over the course of our weeks together, my cat has become more comfortable and no longer remains on her best behavior.  Consequently, it is difficult for me to enjoy a decent night's rest because my feline friend often awakens me in the early hours of the morning--gleefully stalking through the ivy tendrils of my plants, busily sharpening her claws on my furniture, and generally creating a ruckus.  This behavior has grown so egregious over the past couple of weeks that one morning I meanly swept her up in a huff, tossed her into my bathroom, and pulled the door closed behind me.  She quietly awaited her release and I fell off into a light, abashed sleep while my guilty conscious considered her plight.

I subsequently dreamt that I had, in a rage, thrown my pet to the floor with such force that I broke every bone in her body.  She must have bled profusely because when I moved to pry the gelatinous blob of her from my hardwood floor, she stuck to it, having congealed to the wood.  Undeterred, I ripped her body from the floor boards, tearing off a good deal of her fur, and was left with the mass of her body draped over one arm.  Horrified, I quickly drew a hot bath and stepped into it fully clothed with my terribly mutated cat in my arms.  I hoped that the warm water would sooth her injured form and wash away the pain.  She only mewed pitifully.  I remember reflecting in the dream that she looked like a brontosaurus with only her elongated, sinewy, and boneless neck above water.   I awoke to her continued meowing--calling for her freedom from behind my bathroom door.

Since that time, when she looks up at me with her mischievously lit green eyes, I've taken to calling her Golluimna.  I believe the name suits her and it also helps to diffuse my frustration with her crazed, late-night, kitty shenanigans.