We've had rain for a few days. Solid rain. I know, it's Oregon, there's rain. I get that.
But that makes the sunshiny days, or heck even cloudy but dry days, so much more appreciated.
Anywho, I had taken my youngest up to the park by the library. There was no one else there. It was a little windy and I was glad we were in warm sweaters. He found a lost hula hoop and proceeded to throw/roll it around. I sat on the bench to watch and gaze and the emerging growth on the trees and in the shrubs around the playground.
Then the cat showed up. We've seen the cat before at this park. It's dark brown/black on top, white on the belly and feet, and it's fur looks clean and silky like it has a good home. My son was ecstatic - "Ki-ee". He tried to pet it, but of course he hasn't learned how to properly pet an animal without causing discomfort. I did my best to get him to slow down, open his fingers so only his palm touched the fur, but he kept trying to close his grip which made the cat skirt away. After a brief second of getting my son to pet softly, he finally decided the toy was more what he wanted and went back to the playground.
The cat spent a moment under the bench and I went back to my flora-gazing, assuming the cat would meander once the coast was clear. The cat meandered to my ankles. I scratched behind it's ears. The cat jumped to my lap. I stroked it's back. It got comfortable and laid it's chin on my elbow and purred. I continued to gently massage and I thanked God for the warm visitor. The cat took the chill out of the wind nicely.
I grew up with a cat. Muffy had five sets of kittens which were always a joy to hold. I was younger than my son when I accidentally sat on one of them and broke it's leg. Mom had it treated by a vet and it was in a splint until it healed. All the kittens were given away. After Muffy stopped having kittens, she lived a long life with our family. She even put up with the introduction of a poodle pup, which didn't fit our family too well, and then later a sheltie collie. Muffy and the dog kept their respective distances and didn't fight that I remember. My grandmother would visit us occasionally, and I think she enjoyed Muffy as much as any of her grandchildren. My grandmother mourned when Muffy finally passed away. Sick and incontinent, she just didn't have the zip she used to. Mom never got another cat. There have been a succession of dogs, but Muffy just couldn't be replaced. She had class.
When the cat on my lap finally decided to continue it's wanderings, I was content.