I was climbing the hill this morning, when I heard a jogger behind me, coming along with heavy steps, a kind of heel-slapping motion that hurt just to listen to — and up he came, slowly passing me, and he was in pain. Then he climbed the steps of the house at the top of the hill, checked his watch, and went inside. About this time, “Miss Kitty,” the little cat that lives across the street, saw me from the backyard of her house and came racing out to greet me, tail high, light of step — so light she barely touched the ground; no watch, no heavy breathing, only joy.
How long will I remember this?
How long will you?
The little cat was satisfied. She remembers me, but perhaps not the last mouse she found.
~
[ 2013 ]
Categories: Annotations and Elucidations
Tags: Cats, Joy, Memory, Morning, My Mother, Pain, Running, Walking
William Michaelian 