Cyclone

I step into this cage and he greets me with a purr. His tail is full mast and his eyes no longer seem dim. His stomach is rock hard- I suspect that he has been eating items not usually on a kitty menu.

There is no indication of the Cyclone of years past. He doesn’t pace his cage, simply chooses to lay on one of the three layers, or sit atop the cat carrier looking somewhat regal. He loves to have his ears scratched…”ooh mom, that’s it, you nailed the spot!”

I am cautious how I touch him and how much remembering the Cyclone of long ago that went ballistic and aggressive at a moment’s notice. Purring and cuddling in my lap he looks up at me with his golden eyes as if puzzled to why the petting has suddenly stopped. I dare not push the issue, because one trigger could change him in an instant. So we grab all the alone time I can manage and work our way toward understanding each other better. A small glimmer of hope dwells within me, could it be possible that he could merge into general population this time? I don’t know where he has been, just that he has been gone a very long time. He mystifies and delights me and come what may, I am glad he is home.

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