Thirstda’s Wandering Thoughts

I enter the kitchen from the main hallway. The kitchen is part of a ‘great room’. Foyer by kitchen. Pantry, breakfast bar, dining room, living room.

The cat watches me from the far end. Sitting in sunshine, his orange fur glows. His face is expressionless. He has been fed. Has had treats. His meds have been given.

I’ve had coffee and ate breakfast. I set my breakfast bowl down on the bar. Watching the cat, I cross the space to the hall where the primary bedroom is located. Slowing as I enter the hall, I lean back and study the cat for several more seconds. Then I turn and began walking fast down the short hallway.

The cat was sitting in a carpeted area. Now I hear his feet pounding across the dining room’s hardwood floor. I burst into a run and dash to the bedroom. I reach the bedroom and try to hide. Racing in on my heels, the cat issues a happy chirp. Spinning, I lunge like I’m going to grab him. He stands up, arching his back, his tail going high into the hair. I scratch his head. He closes his eyes and purrs.

Then he sprints back down the hall and into the dining room. I give chase.

This is now our morning routine. He’s gotten much better at it. Also, as a younger creature than moi, he’s in much better shape. As I take a breather after chasing him around the dining room and living room furnishings, he sits down, stretches out a rear leg, and tenderly runs his tongue over a furry orange and cream section.

It’s absurd how happy I feel when our daily routine ends.