The calico cat across the road is licking its paw solemnly. Dean can almost hear it, slick-slick-slick, when the tongue rubs the cat’s front paw and then the nose. It seems like licking its body clean is a serious business. There is nothing cute about that cat at the moment; it is not like those cat videos, no. This one is a serious matter. It’s like the cat has a quest for Dean to do. It’s like Dean is the important hero, waiting for the call, leaving his normal, mundane life.
After a long two painful minutes of licking, Dean sees the cat sees him. No, they don’t lock eyes and the cat suddenly disappear, no. The cat flicks its tail, Dean blinks, and that’s all. Dean is secretly disappointed. He wants the cat to come to him. At least that will make his day less suck.
For three days, Dean has been waiting for his mother to show up, but she never come. This calico cat is just the same. Dean has been waiting for the cat to come near, but the cat never stops licking. It’s impossible to walk and lick at the same time. Dean feels sorry for the cat; it can never multitask like human do.
Instead of waiting for the cat to come, Dean decides that he will walk to the cat instead. He can walk, it’s no problem. He just hopes that the cat won’t run away. Animals tend to do that to him. But this one is different; Dean can feel that this one is different.
“Hi, kitty, kitty.”
The calico doesn’t respond, but it doesn’t run either. Dean crouches, he pats the cat’s head softly; his hand goes through the fur. He sighs, but he expects that. The cat’s fur looks soft, Dean can almost imagine how it feels like if his hand doesn’t go through. This cat must have an owner.
“Goodbye, kitty, kitty.”
After several pat attempt, Dean knows it’s time to go. Maybe tomorrow the cat will be still sitting here, if he is lucky. His luck is limited, but he surely can hope for something small like this. He cannot hope for finding his mother, but he can hope the cat will be there every day.
The cat watches Dean go, it’s tail flicks.