He sees more than you think; he knows more than you suppose...he grew up on the streets, and that's about all you really fathom of this creature more complex than a mathematical conundrum.
Although you've gained his trust after way too many years of trying, the panic seen in his eyes when just a single ripple enters into his world, confirms he will always deflect to the wild side when your life crowds in a bit too much.
You're cautious to a fault, as his memory never seems to forget your error of judgement when you choose wrong on his behalf, and forgiveness seems to be a fault more than a strong point in the eyes of this creature.
If a thousand cats showed up on your doorstep pleading choose me, choose me instead, you'd send them all away, because...well, because he choose you, and you'll never ever let him down.
He's a bit vocal with his complaints, causing everyone to admit he's in the building when he gets stressed, but in the peace of any of his days, he'll rub your legs until he gets the petting he requests.
You keep up with all his little quirks and his preferred methods of affection; and no matter the occurrences throughout his day and yours, he's always the apple of your eye come nightfall and bedtime.
I never ask myself why I can't live without cats, because I could, you know; but the void would be as if a thousand universes could easily exist within; and my home without a cat would be a home without me.
As a child, I grew up with indoor/outdoor cats that never saw the inside of a veterinary clinic. If one became ill, it suffered, then died. If one met a cat hater, it was sure to be poisoned at one time or another. Male cats might show back up at the door next morning bloodied with an ear torn and limping.
They interbred, and when nature didn't eliminate the little ones fast enough, well... one day mom took photographs of the eleven to remember them, then dad stuffed them all into cardboard boxes (including my favorite), drove them out to the desert, and blew their little lives to kingdom come with his shotgun. I was never the same again.
While this may seem a horror story, it was business as usual back then, and judging by the number of discarded cats at animal shelters, a practice that is still going strong today. It was a black lesson in what goes wrong when one does not become responsible for the well-being of what they have tamed.
A lesson that has never been forgotten. I never allow myself to think of anything in nature as less important than me. It would be nice if we who believe this way were as common as pebbles on a beach; but, in reality, I think we who believe this way are a rarity more precious than gold. That saddens me.
I need a pick-me-upper, so I'm going gardening today. I have wild petunias, sideoats grama grass, pussytoes, columbine, cardinal flower, and bee balm to plant before we get too far into autumn. Hopefully, something doesn't come along causing me to drop everything and chase it with a camera. Wish me luck :)
Wind swayed long branch back and forth
two feet each way.
She stayed around for half hour
while I worked in the garden.