A drabble is a short work of fiction of precisely one hundred words in length. I was inspired to write this one by observing the psychological warfare between cats.
They met every day.
The tabby cat appeared first, and took her place atop the old weathered table in the middle of the veranda. There she lay like a queen, her white paws tucked in, secure in her high ground advantage. The ginger cat came later and settled on the floor, never more than two metres away from the table.
They never played, never fought, never acknowledged each other’s existence in any way. Their relationship was a study in pretend indifference. A waste of time, to our human mind, but who were we to judge that inscrutable mystery, the cat.
“Holding this soft, small living creature in my lap this way, though, and seeing how it slept with complete trust in me, I felt a warm rush in my chest. I put my hand on the cat’s chest and felt his heart beating. The pulse was faint and fast, but his heart, like mine, was ticking off the time allotted to his small body with all the restless earnestness of my own.”
by Carmen Bernos de Gasztold
Charlie’s been my housemate for a few months now, and it’s hard to imagine that I ever lived in my apartment without a cat and a couch that wasn’t shredded. After our old family cat passed away, I was wondering if I’d ever get attached to another pet as strongly, but nope he’s my little treasure alright.
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