On Love

I was sitting at my desk, working diligently (playing Snood), when I heard a strange noise. I paused the game and turned down the sound on my computer, which was blasting some indie rock. The thing about indie music, much as I love it, is that sometimes it's hard to tell whether a woeful, screeching noise is something to be concerned about, or part of the song. The noise continued after I turned down the volume, however, so I listened intently. It sounded rather like a small animal being mauled by a wolverine, with all its intermittent high-pitched screams, punctuated by scratching and hissing noises.


I looked out into the back yard of the dorm, which my room looks over, but it was dark out, and I could distinguish nothing moving around. I ran downstairs to talk to grab Kate, who came up to my room, complaining about her work. We stood in my room, silent, but the noise has mysteriously stopped. Kate shrugged, eventually, and left. Immediately after, the haunting screeches picked up again, but this time with a different quality to them.

I ran to my window, and that was when I saw it. There were two cats mating directly under my window, letting out yowls of pleasure. I quickly extrapolated that the earlier noise I had heard was two male cats fighting for the privilege of becoming better acquainted with the female cat. What I had mistaken for a small animal being savaged by a carnivore was in fact the sound of a battle for sex, and then sex itself.

The conclusion I draw is this: love comes in unexpected forms. Just because you don't recognize it as love, doesn't mean it isn't love. It may come in a form so alien you don't recognize it at first. So, have a good laugh about it and then move on.

...and two cats mating.