As in, he’s holding the cat up to the ceiling while she tries to catch them.
Go, kitty, go.
She is always the first one to meet me when I come back home. When she does, she walks towards me as if I am the only one that matters and her kisses are as light as can be. She lingers for a while, all around me, and tells me in a whisper that I have been away too long, even if it’s only been two minutes. When she is done with her greetings, she returns back to her chores… The lady of the house is always busy with one thing or another.
She is fierce and independent and also quite fearless. She has blue eyes that draw you in, and a few white hairs, here and there. Age has made her even more beautiful, if that is even possible.
Measured in everything she does, she makes it look all so simple, as if the way she goes about her life is the only way really. She eats with a purpose, and her purpose is not to eat too much, too quickly.
She sometimes sits right in front of me and just looks at me, unflinching, holding my stare just for fun. And when she is done, abusing me with her gentle irony, she turns around and leaves me there, wondering what she saw.
She may appear aloof, but deep down she is a softy and she knows that I know that about her. She doesn’t mind.
With our daughters she has the patience of an angel, until they cross the line, and crossing the line with her is not something you want to do. The girls know that, but in the effervescence of youth, they sometimes forget their manners and she is quick to remind them of their status. But she can never stay angry and indeed, I have never seen her hold any grudge towards any one.
She adores birds and knows their names by heart. She has her favorite place by our lake and can sit there for hours, lost in thoughts, watching and reflecting about the life that hums and bounces all around her.
And when she doesn’t think, she goes out for a run. She loves her daily runs even though she doesn’t run like you and me. She floats in rapid steps, swallowing the ground underneath her. She runs with the purpose of the hungry, and the abandon of the free. And when she is done with her exercises, it is as if she just came back from being pampered by a thousand hands. Not one hair is out of place and she looks a million dollars.
She knows that I work long hours and from time to time she comes to my office and keeps me company. She sits right next to me and tells me softly that she cares and it’s alright, she is there.
Her name is Laila… She is our cat