Manis meows at my door, hoping I will pet her more. Even though it's early morning she arrives with little warning, sneaking out from neighbor's gate with hope that I her needs will sate. All she wants is tender scratches which she takes in fleeting snatches as I move around my place, washing torso, feet, and face. Then she jumps onto the table, old she is but more than able to alight and disappear, purring at me as she nears. Off she goes to check the rooms where she will perch and lick and groom and clean herself most anywhere – in the kitchen, on the stairs. I do miss her, when she's gone, maybe I should coo and fawn and give her more love when I'm able and she's lying on my table. Who can know the ways of cat, why they come or go, at that, praise the goddess of the feline for her presence makes our hearts shine.
© americanifesto / 場黑麥
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