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This morning the cat made tracks from the bathtub all the way to the windowsill to bird watch. I didn’t know the apartment had this much mud, she said, and I replied, Look, he’s watching that dove watch us. The dove knows what we are, and has learned that we’re not to be trusted. I wonder how long it took animals to get used to how we kill. How we ran long into the night, how we wanted it sometimes, but not always. They were older than us when we were old. Younger than us now, since these things have little to do with time. It’s like his TV, she said, about the cat. Thousands of years ago, the animals said that about us, too. This is how they entertain themselves, they said, and watched us bang things together at various speeds. I guess then we said, No, this is how we kill you.
