16 October 2010

morning with Seville

He does look cute, pointy little face with a white nose, and the intricate patterning of dark orange and paler ginger hairs around his eyes.  It is even cute that he follows me from my bedroom door to the bathroom and acts happy to see me, twining in and out of my legs and headbutting my hand to be tickled as I relieve my bladder.  He wants food, of course, and even at ~15 years old, he hasn't yet learnt that continuing the twining as I walk into the kitchen is not the most helpful thing to avoid tripping up a bleary eyed, coffee seeking human.
I open the packet and dump it's contents in his bowl, gulp back grapefruit juice and turn the kettle and the computer on, and then he miaows to be let out, so I open the door.  He turns his head upwards and just before he executes a sinuous jump to be away, I catch the alien reflective flash of the lenses behind his eyes, the utter lack of anything humanly intelligent behind them, and I ponder the strange symbiosis between us.  I guess if he ponders at all, it is quickly ejected from his little brain as the wider scents of the world flood in.
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