Number 4 - The Cat

I've been looking after the cat for a few weeks while my parents are out of the country. I wouldn't call her old, but she is set in her ways and has been in our family since I was in highschool.

The cat loves being outside in the sun, and her favourite spot is under some tall flowers in the garden where she can watch the world without being seen. I said to my mum a few weeks ago that when the cat's time comes, it will be in the fall. She loves summer so much that if she is on death's doorstep in spring I'm positive that the sunlight will rejuvinate her, whereas in the fall its disapperance will just plain kill her. In the winter she paws at the back door wanting to be out, only to look out at the snow with disgust when I open the door and turn her back in a huff.

This morning it wasn't raining as it had the past few days, and with her looking longingly out the window this morning I took the chance and let her out while I ate my breakfast, hoping that she'd come back when I was on my way out the door to head to work. The cat did not come back when I called. Cats are funny that way. Most days she'll come, but once and a while her cat-nature asserts itself and she ignores me completely.

The cat and I already have a tacit understanding these days since I work all day and am not able to feed her the required four times a day as my parents do, nor do I allow her into my bedroom at night since she jumps on my dresser and knocks things off one by one until I pay her attention.

All this to say that the cat was left outside all day, from 8am until 6pm as a result of not coming when I called. I had explained that this would happen if she didn't come, but alas, she did not understand. When I walked into the kitchen after work she was sitting at her post on the back window sill looking longingly inside. She had a glazed-over look in her eye, and I wonder how many hours she'd spent sitting there waiting for me to walk in. The moment I walked in, and I caught her eye, I swear I saw a brief moment of cat-love. She rushed in when I opened the door; although toward her food and not toward me, so I guess cat-love is short-lived.

After she ate she saught me out and curled up on my lap to be pet. I often curse the cat, but do have to admit she provides good company and gives me something to talk at (I restrained myself from saying "talk to"), and we have some nice moments together when the tacit understanding turns to genuine affection.