Arriving Home…

Coming home to three cats is met with a Grand Silence.

I open the door cautiously because once a barn cat always a barn cat…although Hubs doesn’t agree with me,

“I think they like being indoor cats and don’t even remember their barn days.”

“I think if a carpet can be indoor/outdoor why can’t a cat?” I say.

“Lots of reasons!  For starters, cats aren’t recycled plastic pop bottles and for seconds, Coyotes…!”

He has a point!

I enter the kitchen with an admonition, “No, no, no!” putting as much bluster into my tone as I can manage.  This temporarily scare them off from the partly open door; they take up their spectator positions,


and yawn pointedly at me.  Mouths wide, tongues curled, fangs exposed, then,

unlike dogs who wear their hearts on their sleeves and make fools of themselves by groveling and leaving little wet puddles in their wake whenever their owner heaves in sight,

they stretch and sigh, turn their attention towards a ragged claw, lick a front paw and run it casually over an ear, lie down and wait…

Callie drapes her foreleg over the couch and resumes her nap,


When I close the door behind me and start towards the table they race each other to their food bowls…mewing and casting glances at me, an invitation to join them.

“That’s all they want,” I say to Hubs, “I’m nothing but a meal ticket!”

Shads was missing from the nonchalant welcoming committee.  His position is usually beneath a chair, lying out of harm’s way from high heeled shoes and weighty grocery bags.

“Where’s Shads?” I call into the house.  Magic trills in response and from her nest Callie smothers a sneeze.

After putting away the groceries and downing a glass of cold water I wander into my closet to change into my walking gear and find him silently peering over the top shelf where he is resting against my t-shirts, back against a bottle of red chocolate wine, legs tucked around a box of Cadbury Creme Eggs…


“There you are,” I say as if he’s going to wag his tail and start panting…but his silence reminds me that he is a cat not a dog.

I take his velvety paw into mine and he settles deeper into my t-shirts.

A lesson in restraint.

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