He moves on four white, silent feet along my neighbor’s sidewalk, this quiet, watchful newcomer. He sits on the porch a while, thinking about things. Where did he come from? Where is he going? Is he just out for a morning stroll or is he on a mission?
Cats are secret, mysterious creatures. They keep their thoughts hidden behind green eyes. Maybe this new cat is an undercover writer, spying out the neighborhood. He could be gathering tidbits of news, gold mines of information and when he goes back home, he’ll sit down at his desk and click off an enticing mystery to send to his waiting publisher.
It is dampish out this morning; more rain must have fallen during the night. The cat keeps to dry places. No wading through wet leaves and grass for this fastidious fellow.
Now, as I look out my window, he is gone. Where did he go? Did he just vanish into thin air or a puff of smoke? Did he disappear through a secret hole in someone’s gate and slink back into his home, replete with information he has gleaned about my neighbors and me? I’ll keep my eye out for new book releases. Who knows what pseudonym he uses? And, who knows what he will say? Doubtless, his mystery will be a best seller.
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