You are just a cat. How do I call you? Man's best friend? Cats have never been called so. I may not, too.
You don't watch, patrol and guard. You don't attend to tricks. You don't scare strangers and robbers away. Mostly you're passive and aloof. You scamper and mess up the kitchen. You scratch on the furniture and door jams.
You have a disgusting muck and piss our noses off! Yet why am I still keeping you? Why do I love caressing your smooth silky hair and carrying you in my arms? Don't you ever hate me for beating you up every time you loot food from our table? Why do I like to play with you despite all the painful scratch marks you leave on my hands?
Why don't you resent on me for not providing you the best meals? I don't really know if I could call you man's best friend. You don't shun me despite the unpleasant situations. I could not hear you talk back at me (but you do a lot of meowing for my attention, hehehe). It seems that for you everything is just a game of "hide and seek".
Should life be like that? I don't know. Maybe not. I would be the worst fool if I demand you an answer. But if only you can read this, I would like to say, "You, in some ways, take my blues away." Your purring , waggling tail, and playing around my room simply put a smile (or even a heart-full laugh) on my face.
You're almost more than a friend. You're my pet.
No comments:
Post a Comment