Please Be My Friend

                                      PLEASE BE MY FRIEND

         “What are you doing?”  Marie jumped, startled by her husband’s voice behind her. 

         “I was just putting out a little --”

         “Food for that stray cat?  Honey, you know it will never go away, once you start feeding it. ”

         “But it’s so hungry and thin, Peter!  I can’t bear not to feed it.”

         “You’ll never tame it.  It’s too skittish to let you near.”

         “Maybe if I’m patient?”

         “It’s a stray.  It’s feral.  If you corner it; it might bite you.  Then we’d have to do the rabies thing. I know how you feel but this is not a good idea.”

         She set out the food and backed away.  The cat watched with hungry amber eyes and then crept closer, pulled by hunger.

         Keeping one eye on its benefactor, the cat began eating as though it had never before tasted anything so good. 

         Marie reached out a hand.  The cat stiffened and seemed about to run away. But what cat, stray or not, has ever run away from a dish of Fancy Feast?  When the food was gone Marie reached out again.  The cat took a step toward her, wary and ready to flee.  Then it approached and touched its nose to her extended finger.

         A moment later Marie was stroking the cat’s fur.  She smiled up at Peter. “She’s purring.”

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