Tough Love
A picture that so reminds me of Leander (a.k.a The Poocha), or rather his condescending attitude towards humans, the alpha cat that he was...either dangerously growling or purring like an engine or texting his messages of fury across my arms; my personal tattoo artist of yore, designer of those fine signature scars upon my wrist, some of them still visible under a bright sun. I loved him for everything that he was. A cat that could oscillate between antagonism and apology, all in the same minute. He loved his sardines. But he loved his liberty most, the silent prerogative that he administered upon us one fine day and vanished without a trace. I am glad for the mystery he left behind…a whiff of immortality in his wake… In spite of this disappearing act of his being years & years ago, he still comes in my best dreams sometimes, menacingly waving his tail...his feline grey-green eyes gleaming, to scratch me awake from his memories. Pic courtesy : Google Images