Last Night, I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, and I looked up. Something out the window had moved. The cat, had leaped on to the picnic table, staring at a point above the window. Her body is low, her legs bent and ready to pounce. Her eyes are wide and her ears are pricked up, listening for the squeaky call of the gecko that lives in our roof. The sun is setting and everything behind her has an orange tint. I wonder if this has made it difficult for her to see. I go back to the dishes and the bubbles. Meeeoooww!
Shelly has jumped onto the window sill and is looking straight at me. The dirty glass that separates us is not enough to distort the message her clear eyes and mournful meows are sending. I shake the water off my hands before walking across the to the back door. By the time the door slides open, Shelly is standing impatiently at the step and she eagerly runs inside and heads for her food bowl. It is empty.
She turns back towards me, her eyes slightly narrowed. MMEEEOOOWW!!
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