With unmatched determination

The Kitty stands vigil by the shop door in the off chance that she just might, against all odds, get outside. She seems to think that she is a hunter killer and that her talents are wasted inside on the occasional errant insect or length of string. So…she lies in wait.

Outside waits squirrels and birds and an entire world of motion, and more importantly the thrill of the hunt and the prestige of the kill. With a single minded obsession she feels compelled to get to the other side of that door. So…she lies in wait.

Her mind like a blade cuts though all other feline divisions and forsaking even her own safety everything else fades away until only the burning need to get outside remains. She would rather starve than give up her post. So…she lies in wait.

It is only when I physically remove her that she is forced, crying and twisting, to give up the obsession… but it is only temporary. I can only shake my head at her single-mindedness as I drag her away killing the dream.

For a moment.

Tonight, inside, she will dream of the door. Of lying in wait, and of squirrels and birds and motion…

It might be my true single comfort that this is a world of men for if cats had a say…