Pets Are Not My Thing

I followed her home, for she was adorable and fun. We were getting along, when I said I’d better run. Now don’t be hasty, she said. Do you know where we’re at? Of course I had no idea we were being watched by her cat. He is up there in the window, on that ledge, way up high. I looked and finally saw him, a chubby, annoyed looking guy. Please make time to meet him, she said. Surely you have a sec. In her gorgeous hazel eyes I saw a dancing humor in form of a speck. A couple of minutes, I told her. But then I really have to go. I truthfully liked her, but pets are not my thing; if you truly must know. Poindexter pretended to be docile in front of her face. Behind her back he gave me a look keeping me firmly in place. I knew now why she was not married or dating any one guy. I could tell efforts would be futile, so why even try? Poindexter was her baby, her family, her man and her king. I truthfully wanted to get out of there more than anything. I know you will love each other, she said as she began to make tea. He hissed and spat and gave me the bird, although silently. He glared and threatened me within a couple of inches of my life. I knew she’d never be a girlfriend, let alone my wife.