Saturday, June 13, 2009
He dutifully encircled his masters' feet, making figure eights and infinities between them. They clung to each other on the front porch, and he knew something was amiss. But then, he was a cat. And cats know things. Sometimes before the humans even do. But people are quick to judge a beast's intelligence, relying on its silence as proof of a lower being. Not necessarily true. At least, not in his case.
For instance. He knew the female master was expecting a litter. She probably didn't even realize it yet, but he could smell her change in scent. It hadn't been for very long. He wondered if that would put an end to the cream he got in the evenings before bed... Little ones always were a burden to his kind.
He watched as his owners parted slightly, the female clinging a little longer to the other's arms than necessary.
The male master bent down and gave him a good scratch behind his ears, eliciting the purr from deep down within his throat, his back arching and leaning into the owner's leg. It was his way of saying goodbye.