Uncool For Cats
I see a cat on my way to the park. I work from home and have little human contact during the day, so I seem to have compensated by making friends with a lot of the cats in the area. I like cats, but can’t have one at my flat, so I always stop to stroke them on my way to the park/shops/library. My life is great. It is like being old without the incontinence issues.
I know which cats live where and which ones are friendly. This is one of the friendliest – a white/ginger/tabby mix who lives in one of the houses on the left, approximately halfway to the park. I stroke him and we have a little chat. The chat is quite one-sided, mainly about how shiny his coat is and how nice it is to be stroked under the chin, but it’s still better than a lot of conversations I had working in an office. I carry on to the park.
On my way back, I see my friend standing once again by the gatepost. I am very happy. Some days I don’t see any cats at all, so to see the same one twice is special.
I kneel down again, but the cat just runs away. Puzzled, I look up. A man is coming down the path. He is probably wondering why I am kneeling in front of him saying, “Come here, gorgeous”.
0 comments:
Post a Comment