Zacharina gets the beat

When trying out a new skill, it can be less intimidating to start with a warm audience. Seated at the desk in my writer’s studio, I enlisted the service of my four-legged writing companions, The Zeds, to try my hand at using a group of beats to create a scene. The two are as different as cats and dogs in demeanour and personality. Zacharina is a black cat with tidy white socks and a precise zigzag of white under her chin. Zuka is a black and white dog with a salt and pepper moustache and an untidy black blaze draped across her back that looks like an old woman’s overcoat that has slipped off her shoulders and settled around her hips.

“Zacharina,” I said, addressing my cat person as she lay curled nose to tail on my father’s old dining room chair, now housed in a place of honour in my studio. Its mahogany wood, graceful arms, and elegantly carved back reliably brought his dear face to mind and focused my storytelling. “I need some help with beats.”

Only the smallest twitch of a whisker indicated she had heard me. Her canine sister, an aged Shiatzu as deaf as a post, contributed a counterpoint of small snores from where she lay sprawled below the desk. No help would be forthcoming from that quarter.

“Zacharina.” I swiveled back in my chair. “I really need your help with beats.”

Opening one eye she regarded me steadily, stretched languidly, and then launched herself in one smooth leap from the chair to my desk. I knew what was coming next and hurriedly lifted my keyboard into the air before she could add a string of nonsensical consonants to my essay.

“Oh cat-cat,” I sighed, as she arched her back and pushed her head into my hand, her silky fur an irresistible invitation for a chin scratch.

A deep rumble started in her chest as she gifted me a metronome of perfect beats that drained the tension from my shoulders. Surely a purr beat trumped all others.