Good Morning…

Sita is always right there at my door as it opens in the morning.  She has her routine…greet me with a full-body rub against my legs and then a purposeful jaunt to the kitchen…breakfast time!  I’m always happy to see her…and offer her a few loving words and a scratch on her bunny-soft, tabby head.

Sita in her catnip "patch"

Join in with your Flash Friday 55 over at G-Man’s place:

Tabby Cat

Tabby cat on my lap

Dozing contentedly

My dear friend

Curled up tight

Eyes squinting shut

I admire your beauty

Your shades of plenty

Running my fingers

Down your back

Soft down fur

Like velvet silk

Parting some along the way

Hues of colors not seen until

Some of russet like burnished gold

Black mixed in with tan and white

A nap of gray next to your skin

Tones so subtle

Tints just right

Stripes and patterns

I had not noticed

Taking the time

Sitting with you

I admire your beauty

And tell you so

As I speak with whispered words

You raise your head

Looking back at me

And answer with a thanking “chirrup”

Beautiful girl...

Monday Morning Writing Prompt “The Artist In You”:

My entry for The Gooseberry Garden, Object Form:


Sita’s Paw

Busy thinking

Sita in her catnip patch

Busy typing

Nothing distracts me

Eyes straight ahead

Focused fully

Suddenly my vision

Catches a motion

And I hear a tiny meow

Sita’s paw is patting my arm


My entry for Sunday’s 160:

Sita’s Sleeping

Sita’s sleeping once again,

this time in my just-dried laundry.

She’s in a snugly tucked-in shape.

It’s her favorite place to nap next only to a sunbeam patch.


My Sunday 160.


Here are photos of my cat, Sita.  She is 13 years old now and in excellent health.  My daughter adopted her when she was an infant kitty.  She was very happy living with us in a small apartment that had an enclosed courtyard around it.  We would let her out to play in the courtyard where she would occasionally capture a lizard that was one of her favorite tasty morsels.  If we ever happened to glance out there and see her with the tell-tale “grimace” that alerted us to the fact that she had captured one in her mouth, we would run out there and make her let it go.  She hated that and would run from us.  We couldn’t bear the fact that she was killing the lizards–she could care less.  After all she’s a cat–what were we thinking?!

My daughter made the huge mistake of thinking Sita needed a playmate and adopted a male kitten she named Rumi, after the Sufi poet.  Sita thought this was a horrible idea and never would warm up to her new “brother”.  It was a disaster.  Sita had to deal with him in “her space” for several years before my daughter moved away and decided that to take two cats who hated each other would not be the greatest idea.  So we gladly took her in and she has been happily living with Tom and me for several years now.  She is so much happier being an “only kitty”!

She’s very affectionate and loves to get into my lap for a snooze or a cuddle.  Her “Dad” gives her a good brushing everyday which she loves.  And will wait patiently for him outside his bathroom door to finish with his shower in the mornings for him to administer the anticipated brushing.

She has a little stool that she gets on throughout the day and night to check out the front of the house.  Usually that’s where she’ll spot an intruding cat and if they approach too closely to her window seat–all hell will break loose with full-fledged puffed up, bristled fur, accompanied by loud caterwauling!  Thank you, Sita, for alarming the household of the danger lurking outside!

She has a “paper patch” and a catnip patch that she loves to roll around in and play.  The paper patch consists of discarded, multi-colored tissue paper (the kind that comes in a gift package).  She loves to lie in it and pretend there are “things” hiding within its “crinkly” crevices and attack them.  She is very good at “disemboweling” these imagined tissue critters.  Her catnip patch is right next to her paper patch.  This is where she will receive her pinch of “nip” and scratch at it vigorously before flipping on her back while she then lazily lolls in her “purple haze” of bliss.

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