Roses are red, violets are blue; have I got a romance story for you!
Greetings, dear friends and fellow romantics! Zoe here. I am a fabulous feline who lives with a human named Emily. I write stories about my crazy, fun adventures. And Emily . . . well, she—lacking adventures of her own—lives vicariously through me.
As I said above, I have a romance tale to share with you. This story is all about moi . . . moi et mon amour, that is—me and my love.
Yes, I am in love! I know I might have said that before. There was Mister Big Stuff and Mister Gray Shades, and—well, never mind. All that matters is that Zoe the Fabulous Feline is in love!
Let me start at the beginning. Many moons ago, on a particularly frigid night, I was awakened by crying that seemed to be coming from our driveway. It was very late, and I had been fast asleep in my favorite spot on Emily’s bed. Not on the gray pad she graciously laid out to designate my assigned spot on her bed, but smack in the middle of her bed, curled up tight against her legs. (If she wanted me to stay on that gray pad, then she should have put it on her side of the bed.) Anyway, I was so comfortable that I didn’t want to get out of bed to investigate the noise. So, I didn’t.
But soon enough, the crying became a wailing. I jumped off the bed and up onto the window sill. I saw a pair of large, striking green eyes in the driveway. They belonged to the biggest, blackest cat I’d ever seen. The poor thing started to cry more loudly; it broke my heart. How could any warm-blooded animal be outside on a night like this? Or maybe the real question was: Where were his humans and did they know he was outside?
I jumped back up on the bed and tried to awaken Emily. She reached out to pet my head before sleepily ordering me back to my corner of the bed. The crying outside got louder still. Just as I was about to take more drastic action, she bolted upright. Lucky for her.
“What the hell was that?” she mumbled, before going to the window. I could tell from her reaction that she was aghast at seeing this helpless cat out in the wee hours of an extremely cold night. She ran to the front door and slowly opened it. But the action spooked the cat and it ran off. Reluctantly, we went back to bed and to sleep . . . or tried to.
We no sooner got comfortable when what did we hear? That’s right. “Blackie” was back and sounding as pitiful as ever. Emily put the pillow over her head and I put my paws over mine, but it was no use. Blackie’s crying got us out of bed once again, but again, he would not come inside.
After a third unsuccessful attempt to get him indoors, we reluctantly returned to bed, a bit sad and concerned, but knowing we’d done the best we could to get him out of the cold.
I thought about that black cat from time to time, wondering if he had survived that bitter cold night. I hoped so; he was quite the handsome cat, and I hoped I’d see him again.
Then one day, I heard a familiar sound. I followed it to the front room, and there at my deck door was Blackie. I recognized those stunning green eyes right away.
We communed through the glass all that day. He was giving me “that look.” I was rolling around on the floor. Suddenly, I realized what had been going on when Blackie had come crying to our home those many moons ago. He wasn’t a stray cat, looking for a home. He wasn’t even looking to come in from the cold. He was a tomcat and he had come a-courting me. But Emily kept showing up at the door—time and time again, I might remind you—until he had just given up and gone home.
He comes to visit frequently now. And whenever I get a chance, I sneak out to visit him. We have a grand time together, running through alleyways and trying to catch a mouse or two to bring home to our humans.
Oh, by the way, I learned that mon amour is named Magnum. I like that much better than Blackie.
Emily’s Sunrise Editing Services
You can catch up with any Zoe the Cat Posts you may have missed, by any of the following three means:
Clicking on the Zoe the Cat tag at the bottom of her posts
Typing Zoe into the Search box top right of blog and Enter or Return