The Brown Tabby – dark streaks spread far apart in a muddy brown river (the fur), black eyelin[ing] olive almond eyes – was a sturdy fine feline. And she SAT in the middle of the living room, tail curled around her feet, waiting to be acknowledged to be loved.
But the humans were oblivious.
The Brown Tabby, patient as a tree, eventually gave up. Walking to the door she turned her head and meowed to be let out.
The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa” — I know this cat! — runs to my side, frenetic hop, skip and a jump. The cat, my old feline friend, then speaks, well almost; it’s body language: fluctuating, (A shy cat will wrap its body around everything BUT you.) generating, ring-around-the-rosy, motorboat engine nonstop PURRING – attraction STATIC. The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa“, leans against my leg, staring across the yard, empty lot, at the shrubbery [in the back yard, next house]. I could almost see “Feline Appaloosa” VIBRATE, (Aura?). Was this fear — the white cat with gray tabby patches was almost shivering — or was this just high-alert, awareness of something out there THAT I CAN’T SEE (FRUSTRATING!) dancing in place while standing still. Suddenly, we part company, offstage cue. The white cat with gray tabby patches, “Feline Appaloosa” ducks underneath the porch [to eat the food I left in the bowl] while I go up the steps. We glance at each other, snap of the fingers moment, ZOOM gloom, “Later, Friend.” But I still wonder. I still feel, I still sense the vibration, feline taut wire. WHO was that cat WATCHING?!