I look forward to coming home every night because I know my cat patiently waits for me.

Upon turning the knob to open the door, I will always see her without fail doing something that seems very important, pretending she doesn’t see me. Sometimes I suspect that she purposely hides under the couch whenever she hears my footstep approaching so I will see only her face peeking from the bottom of the sofa, her face giving me the cutest face of nonchalance I know.


I will put my heavy back pack on the couch and call her. “Mimi, Mimi!” “Come to me, Mimi.” I’m always exhausted after spending 13 hours or more out working, but I forget how very tired I am when I see her or hear her purr. She ignores me at first, makes me feel I am but a rogue, dark rock aimlessly floating in her vast galaxy of stars. As soon as I begin to feign doing other things, like taking off my shirt and pants to shower in order to remove all the grimes I collected on my way home, she surreptitiously brushes her cheeks against my leg and lightly engulfs a narrow patch of my skin within the fullness of her small but gaping mouth until I can feel her fangs exerting enough pressure to make me notice her.

Without warning, she’ll mercilessly bite me. But owing to the smallness of her milk teeth, Mimi is only able to successfully do nothing but tickle me with that attempt at recovering her wildness she and all the other domesticated cats have relinquished thousands of years ago in exchange for access to grain silos that housed those delicious and protein-rich mice that competed with man for agricultural surplus.

I will hold her two front limbs, carry her toward my face and declare with so much love in my voice the extent of her evilness. I wonder how it will be when Mimi becomes bigger, when those canines can already do enough damage, when she’s gone too big and strong to be able to stage a committed resistance against me whenever I drag her to the shower. I guess this is the same fear parents have while staring with love at the infant they hold in their hands.

She had her first visit to her vet last weekend and took her deworming meds and vitamins on the same day. This Friday Mimi will have her first antirabies shot. I’m still thinking whether she will be spayed or not. My life has changed since Mimi came.

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