The cat stretches lazily. The world may be filling the 24 hours with a million things, but the cat has all the time in the world. The cat silently laughs at those in the rat race, she’s going to daydream and nap at her leisure.
The human wants to pick her up, she scowls. She’ll be sociable on her own time. Yes, the cat is selfish—a fault—but she’s also wise. She knows rest is the key to life, not even most humans know that.
At one glance of her deep green eyes she can penetrate you body and soul, straight to the heart. You feel unsettled, you look away. When you look back, she’s gone.
The cat walks alone, let her go. She wanders the outdoors, vanishes into trees, down a forgotten lane. And the next moment she is by your hearthside ready to socialize once more.
Dogs adore you, cats offer no adoration. They will not worship you; somehow they know you are but dust with a head of imaginary gold. There are no kings in a cat’s eyes—only friends.