By Camincha
Domino, he is barely ten weeks old. Vera has been told those weeks equal the age of a teenager, but still, to her, he is only a baby kitten. That’s why when she heard his long, howling meows, she immediately thought, he is in danger. Full of concern, she ran to the window.
There he was, stretched out on the backyard chair enjoying the sunshine, blue skies, roaming clouds. There was Domino, green eyes round as quarters, which made a great contrast with his snow white and charcoal fur. And that smile! If a kitten could smile, he was. Smiling, being friendly, trying to make friends. Not far, the object of his attention was cruising the backyard, a fat, furry cat, nose up in the air.
Just like a human, she laughed out loud. That fat snob wouldn’t even look at you, ha? Little ten week old! That’s all right, Domino. You’ll learn to recognize them, those human ways.
Meow, meow, meowwwwwwwwww.
Camincha is a pen name for a California-based writer.
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