The Little Black Flying Cat

My youngest holding my eldest

Negrito El Gato Volador (the little black flying cat) RIP: 2002-2020

You were a brat sometimes

Knocking things off shelves

Nipping at our ankles

Sneak attacks when we least suspected

You were a sweetheart sometimes

Curling in our laps

Nudging your head into our palms for pets

Cuddling and purring away our tummy aches and tears.

You were a ruler sometimes

Defending your land from invaders

Chasing squirrels and mice

Making awkward noises at those pesky air vermin

You had a cantankerous personality

An introvert who preferred to be together alone

You had a loyal heart

I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. 

I suppose I never would.

Rest well, kitty boy.

Published by TJ Deschamps

Tammy loves to build worlds with words, exploring themes the effect of diaspora on the generations born elsewhere than their ancestors with the backdrop of tech or magic and dragons (sometimes both). These stories are inspired by her own family's immigrant experience. She's queer and many of her characters fall somewhere on the LGBTQIA spectrum (though that is not the focus of her work). She's married to an engineer who dances. Together they are raising three precocious teens in the Seattle suburbs. Two of her children are neurodiverse. Her experiences have taught her much about the world, its beauties and its injustices. All of this comes through in her fiction with a healthy dose of absurd humor.

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