Keeper of the Cheese

Ishy Christine, Waiting at The Window, June 8th 2020. 

Keeper of the Cheese

She waits at the window, her white and calico figure waiting for my return.. Her eager meowing echos through the hall, down three flights of stairs even, traveling through my entering my building,The moment dinner arrives, she greets me at the door. Wet food squished into a container,  night after night but it’s a flavor she still lives for. 

While I spend seconds and seconds preparing her delight,  she leaps on the counter, tilting her head and mouthing the words she was once echoing in the halls.  I tell her about my day, giving her a behind the scenes recap and ask if she’s been good.

Her run of the mill mewing subsides as she quickly devours her food. But she starts up again,  at dinner, especially if it involves cheese.

Into the evening,  all is quiet, as I’m watching TV.  But I pull out the cheese a new whale of dramatic begging erupts from her.  Our neighbors must think she’s never been fed.  She jumps and she paws, keeps and squeals, for that most precious moment,  the moment of cheese, the one thing she lives for  so it seems. In the “animal pecking order” she sees me as the keeper of this home, but to her most of all  I am the keeper of the cheese.