How I wished to be his cat.

I would purr against him, he would pet me

He would give me food and water.

I would come to him when he was naked on his bed

And rub my fur against his belly

He would keep me in the house with him

He wouldn’t blame me when my claws came out

Or when I purred too loudly.

Or when I humped him or the furniture.

He would smile and bring me out when guests came over

And they would watch me circle ‘round and exclaim at my cuteness

 

How I wished to be his cat.

He would never send me away

Or complain that I talk too much

Or that I want too many treats.

He would scratch me in all the right places

And tickle me with his soft, large fingers

 

How I wished to be his cat.

I would sit on his carpet and watch him go in and out

Knowing he would always come home to me

That no other cat would sit on his heart

Or hear his stories

The way I do

How he would never say a word about me that didn’t flatter

Or give me the benefit of the doubt

 

How I wished to be his cat

I would stretch myself along his body

I would know he would never give me to another

I would know he would never send me away

He would call out to me when he got home

Pet me with his heart on his sleeve.

 

How I wished to be his cat.

He would be gentle with me

He would listen to my poem if I learned how to write one

And tell me how well I write prose.

He would submit my work to Poets and Writers

And certainly I would grace the front page.

 

How I wished to be his cat.

---

Rima Ruhman is a Palestinian-American writer, born in Saudi Arabia and raised in Texas and Virginia. Currently working on a novel, her fiction has been long-listed by the Disquiet Literary Contest and is upcoming in Wayne Literary Review. A finalist for the 2017 PEN USA Emerging Voices fellowship, she holds a BA in English from the University of Virginia and an MS in Technology Management from George Mason University and worked for several years as a journalist in US and the Middle East.