I first saw her in the spring. Chance morning meetings turned into regular occurrences. She was cute, and I looked forward to seeing her, but I forgot her before I got to work. Her business did not concern me. One morning I realized she was hungry. It took several days before I got my act together and remembered to open a can of tuna on my way out the door. The days passed, and she greeted me as I left for work, winding around my legs, expecting me to stroke her head or perhaps waiting for me to feed her.
One rainy night, I pulled into the driveway, my headlights capturing glowing eyes on my doorstep. That night everything changed. She was soaking wet and looked pathetic. Her blues eyes looked at me, she opened her mouth and mewed. She had never spoken. My heart melted and when I opened the front door she dashed inside.
Her body was a dark cream but her face, tail and the tips of her ears were a warm chocolate brown. Her marking reminded me of a chocolate truffle and that became her name. She wakes me every morning and rushes to the door to welcome me home each night. Every evening she climbs into my lap. I pet her while she purrs and then falls asleep. I can’t remember my life without Truffles.
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer