… I’m a cat …

She greets me gently and calls me lady Shye. Appropriate, since I just about tolerate having my neck scratched, and only because every morning she feeds me a few crunchy bits and water. When the water smells, I reject it and wait around for a fresh serve. She knows better than to invite me into the house, and I’d never attempt to use the old cat flap, obviously installed for a previous lodger. I was traumatized once. It’s her guess that I don’t belong to anyone, which is half true.

While I wait for my morning treat, she tests my patience, by staring forever at something on her desk. It’s a mystery. Or she is combing her hair etc. … then I do my own manicure, to mirror her. Then she smiles. Though she smiles more at the Robins, which she feeds, tossing oats into vacant flowerpots, but only after I’ve seemingly vanished around the corner of the shed.

I like the peace here. I can sit for hours up in her garden. She must wonder what I’m thinking … nothing … cats are good at that. A gust, a movement, a scent, even a slight vibration hitting my ears is enough for me. Anyway, she seems to appreciate my calm presence. As to what goes on in her mind, I don’t have a clue.

At times I wonder if I’ve been drawn here as her guardian, like the robins, the blackbirds, and the fox, and lately the butterflies.

I keep a distance when she has visitors. I don’t trust humans unless they’ve proven to honour my shyness. I avoid fights with other creatures. I’m not of that kin. Even the fox respects that.

This is just to say to you humans, should you have guardians around you, treat them well, they may be send by angels.