Friend of the Feline

Ahh, I went outside to see my cat today. Stupid cat will only stay outside and refuses to come anywhere near the house. He's a strange cat...I'm worried he might die soon, he's an old cat. All of the piece is true, I love my cat in a subtle way. :) Post about your pets! (If you want)

He paws anxiously at the window, the pads of his feet thudding softly against the smooth surface. His eyes are wide, excited as he hears the click of the key turning in the door. He is wary of me, never a trustworthy animal. Many years, it took me, to earn my place this close to him. I step outside, curious he steps forward before leaping back. I sit with him, he keeps his distance and I keep mine. Our relationship was always based on a deep respect for each other.

He stares head on, never flinching. Occasionally he turns to glance at me, his murky yet perfect yellow eyes penetrating deep into mine.  I sit watching him, even in old age he is in his prime. He sports many battle scars, a torn ear, bruised nose, and various patches of thin fur. Through all this, he still manages to look majestic as the breeze disturbs his wispy coat.  I fetch a glass of milk, and we share it. He laps it up hungrily, his tounge clicking in a steady rhythm.  Satisfied he brushes the last drops of milk delicately from his brittle whiskers, stretches and yawns, flashing a sharp set of fangs. Fangs that hold years of experience, fangs that have been the end to many a mouse, death to enough birds to fill a flock. Alas, he hunts no more.

As we sit, soaking up the suns luminous rays, I offer my hand to the cat. He nuzzles it, examines it thoroughly, before nudging his head into my palm. Gently, I scratch the top of his head. We sit like this, for a further five minutes, watching the yound hatchlings fly clumsily from the fuschia bush, a perfect platform for their first flight. The cat cares not for the likes of killing, instead he indulges in being the witness to the chicks first endeavor. A crow caws noisily from a distant tree, and the sounds of a helicopters blades slicing throught the spring air reverberate across the sunset orange sky, a picturesque scene within the bounds of my home town.


The End

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