Pussy

It's Sunday morning. I woke up a feeling little hung over, but then again, I always do, no matter how well behaved I've been.
Not much point in behaving I guess.
Before opening my eyes I stretch my arm over to the right of me and feel her warm body.
I knew she would still be there. She always is, and I take comfort in that.
She is so beautiful in the morning with the sun caressing her body and warming her hair.
I snuggle up to her for a few kisses then sluggishly wander down stairs to start the water for my tea.
Most days she would be right behind me, but today...Not even the sound of the television or the smells and sounds of breakfast tempt her to join me.
Should I have stayed in bed with her? Did she think I would come back? It's hard to know what she expects from me some times.
I prepare my breakfast.
Just as I'm setting my hash and eggs on the table she walks in and sits down. I should have expected this, her timing is impeccable.
She just sits there and stares at me, expressionless.
Now, am I supposed to feel some kind of guilt for something? I hate these awkward moments.
I put a little food on a plate for her. She just looks at it, then walks outside to sit on the back porch which is right outside the kitchen window.
She watches me watch her.
Whatever.
I enjoyed my meal alone while watching some romantic drama unfold on the television.
Now, all that's left, is for me to do the dishes.
Her food will stay on her plate.
She went out for breakfast.
I know this because I can see her from where I sit as I write this.
She went to her usual place. Her favorite place.
She loves sitting in that path that goes through the tall grass in the yard.
She'll sit there for an hour if she has to.
She always gets her mouse.
She's good.
I love my cat.