by Catherine Petit
It is a quiet evening. I can hear the crickets outside and the breeze is softly blowing the curtains. A good night’s sleep is in store for me, unless he decides to come in.
The nights I expect him, I worry if he will show up, and he never does. The nights I think he won’t bother to come, he surprises me.
This old grey-haired gentleman keeps me guessing.
As I drift off to sleep he enters my bedroom. Under the cover of darkness, he slowly makes his way to the side of my bed. Quietly he sneaks closer and closer. He pauses, wondering where to make his attack. Side of the bed… Foot of the bed….
Sometimes he simply crawls into my bed and I awaken to find him there. Softly sleeping next to me. Maybe he was just looking for a soft bed to sleep on. Or maybe he was cold and wanted extra warmth.
Other times this old grey-haired gentleman pounces on my bed to announce his presence, and then he begins to demand attention. If I roll over and ignore him, he simply crawls over me and forces me to pay attention to his demands.
What can I do? What can I do?
There is no escaping this old grey-haired gentlecat’s insistent demands.
Images (Generic) from Unsplash
Featured image/Nick Wright
Grey cat/Milada Vigerova
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