, , ,

When I returned home tonight, i could see the shadows on my doormat come to life from a distance. Milky Whey stretched herself the way only cats can, her heavy paws the only bits of white in her sleek, black fur. She pretended like she was leaving and I coaxed her, talking cat (gibberish), to stay for a bit. She allowed me to scratch her head and so happy was I to see her again, I tweaked her sweet little ears too. She rewarded me with some deep purring and circled my legs while I opened the door. She would only come in after I turned on the lights, and even then hesitatingly. She bumped into my boots and ran out in a funny fat cat dash when she knocked them over. And then back in again when i called her. She remembered her little plate all right, her eyes resembling round saucers at the sight of the milk can. Two servings later she sat aloof outside the door, her green eyes reflecting light, demanding to be left alone.