October 1999

I was petting a jaguar. A beautiful animal that lived in a house I was visiting. It was sprawled out on the bed, luxurious black fur against white chenille. Though the animal was composed, I felt the danger in approaching it. It seemed friendly enough as I scratched behind its ears and massaged it, but it also didn't know its own strength, and was a little rough. I knew that at any moment it might forget itself and snap my arm in its jaws, and that was a precarious understanding we'd come to. Later on I was outside walking by the house, and I heard from within the growl of the same jaguar. Maybe someone else had approached it without its approval. I thought that they'd best be careful.







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