Cats
A few days ago I watched a short video about the history of the world according to cats.
Then, two days ago, I watched half of a video of a guy hitchhiking and couchsurfing in Canada.
Then yesterday evening, when I arrived home, I saw traces in the snow in front of my door that looked like those from a cat, but concluded that they must be from someone's dog.
But a minute later, after I had locked my bike, a cat actually appeared and walked towards me. As I usually do when I see a cat, I greeted it and started petting it.
I rolled through the snow and soon my hands got cold from the snow on its fur, so I decided to invite the cat into my flat to continue petting it without the cold snow.
It followed me through the front door but then stopped at the open door of my flat and looked at me. I told it to come inside and the cat went.
I poured some water into a small bowl and set it on the floor for the cat to drink and then gave it some more cuddles. The cat proceeded to explore my flat and finally took a seat on my armchair next to my desk.
It stayed there during the night and woke up when I woke up in the morning. Short before I left it went up to my door, looked at it, then looked at me, and I opened the door, went out and opened the front door and the cat left.
Reflecting on this experience I conclude that it reflects precisely what I like about cats. Wherever this cat came from, whether it has a permanent home or doesn't, it has the freedom and the social sensitivity to meet and connect with strangers, to find a warm place to sleep at a human's home and to communicate with them about their needs and boundaries.
At no time, neither while I was eating dinner in the evening, nor when I was talking with a friend on the phone, did the cat disturb or annoy me. It made sure to show me that it liked the cuddles, but it didn't demand it like I have experienced it with some cats who lived with me permanently.
I could sense that this cat was very sensible for the moods and boundaries of humans. And what struck me the most was that when my alarm was ringing in the morning and I opened my eyes, I could see that the cat was still sleeping peacefully on my armchair, knowing that the alarm was of no concern for it.
But as soon as I lifted my head to get up, the cat also lifted its head to get up. It was apparently more sensitive for what I was doing than for the annoying sound of my alarm. And it was not because it was deaf – the evening before I could see that it was listening to the music I had put on and showed a clear dislike for some kind of music and an appreciation for another kind of music.
From the perspective of exactly 20 months later, I can briefly tell the rest of the story: I met that cat many more times, often together with a friend I had got to know later, sometimes on my favourite spot in the evening sun.