Flow

Flow is my cat. She’s more like a person to me today than ever before.

Originally Flow belonged to Namaste, and now that he has moved away it’s unclear who the owner is. It’s almost like she belongs to this house.

I had my music program open on my computer and was about to start writing a song when Flow walked onto the couch next to me. She put her paws on my lap and lay down. Normally I would have pet her a few times and continued working.

I’ve been thinking a lot about a particular girl recently. Today I fantasized, what if that girl had sat down close next to me and rest her head on my shoulder? I wouldn’t simply hug her and go back to working; she just asked me for some affection!

So instead of seeing “that’s a cat”, I interpreted Flow’s actions as I would a human’s. I closed my computer and sat next to her, petting her softly and listening to her purr. I felt close to her, like she was my friend and she understood me. At the least, I understood her.

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4 thoughts on “Flow

  1. Fine, criticize my attempt at a nice closing to the article instead of leaving it hanging at the previous sentence as I was about to do! See if I care! :-P

  2. I am glad flow has found somebody else to talk to. It reminds me of the first time I met Flow. I was at the Humane Society picking out a kitten. I was going around sitting in the rooms they had the kittens in. She was in the same cage as another kitten I was interested in, so they took her out too. She was weak and a little listless from a nasal infection. After walking around for a little bit, she came and sat on my lap. I pet her a little, and then looked in her eyes and asked her if she wanted to come home with me? She let out a soft “meaaah,” and that was it. Here was a creature I could communicate with on a more genuine level than most of those that walk on two legs and talk with lots of words.

    I’m still hoping to come back for her soon, although you guys may have earned the right of refusal for your good care of her. Thats a discussion whose time is not now.

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