Reflections on Life through poetry, essays and photos
Peeky-Kitty’s surveying all from his nest up on the wall. He hears the car before it enters, then sees his mistress as she centers, trying to avoid the case that serves as Peeky-Kitty’s base.
Balanced there upon the shelf, he does not deign to stir himself. He only opens one green eye, raising his head only nose-high over the corner of his bed, for he has already been fed.
Though he’s been waiting, hour on hour here in his padded leafy bower, his lady’s home now, finally, and since he has no need to pee, he’ll close his eyes and sink back, curled, content that all’s well in his world.
This is often the sight that greets me through my windshield when I drive into my garage. In this case, Pasiano had balanced the bed of the kitties up on the top of the storage cupboards to make room for three big garbage bags full of mother-in-law tongue plants my neighbors had weeded out of their garden and contributed to me to put down in the lot and along my front wall. At other times, they owe their lofty perch to the fact that Yolanda has swept and swabbed the tile floor and put their bed up there so it won’t get wet.