Its my birthday today, which makes me an Aquarius. I cant help but connect to all the Aquarius’ out there, and feel as if we might have a whole lot more common than we think. One of those things is a detached attachment to all things, people and general life. It may seem that we don’t care at first, but really, we do.
One of the things, rather a living thing, I do love dearly is my cat: Cherie. She’s a Siamese, and a beautiful one at that. Not because of her looks, hell, I think she looks like a damned rat at times.. No, its because of her personality. Now I might sound like a complete lunatic, but hear me out.
Every morning me, and my younger sister, leave Cherie out of our room to do her morning duties to her mammal body. We did the very same this morning, as well. But today, unlike other days, Cherie caught a prey when out on her morning stroll across the garden. She had caught a field rat (which, by the by, are very good looking.. Gray, white, tiny and cute as a button).
In normal circumstances, normal cats would have had that delicious looking rat as their first meal of the day. But no, something snaps in Cherie’s head that she must go inside with the rat dangling from it’s neck-down in her teeth.
My father, sitting in the sitting area across from our bedroom door, reading a copy of Time magazine, hears an odd constrained sound from our doorway. Looking around, he notices that Cherie was making them standing in front of our door for us to open. And then it dawns upon him why she sounded like a dog; he saw a tail, and then a tiny body attached to it, hanging from Cherie’s mouth, as lifeless as a leaf in Autumn (maybe not as light). After registering the fact that, indeed, Cherie had caught a beautiful meal, he rushed towards her to scare her into dropping the rat. Which, of course being a cat, she didn’t do. Instead she gave him a run for his money and settled under a bed to enjoy her meal; the minute she kept it on the ground, he hushed her up from behind and she ran out of the room, leaving her food behind.
Later, it struck Father that he had done a very unfair thing. For, if she had to eat the rat, she wouldn’t have brought it inside.. Instead, she brought it in and outside of our door to share the meal with her clan: me and my sister.
Now tell me, who says cats are heartless? I love every bit of Cherie, and I know she is somewhat connected as well.