The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat

Shannon Willis

The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat

The day begins in grey light. Perched against the black frame of the glass, the obsidian observer looks upward. The outside world is wet and chaotic, raindrops racing down the pane like tiny, fleeting spirits. He tracks them with a pale green eye, a hunter separated from the hunt by a transparent wall. He does not mind the barrier, it keeps the fur dry while the mind wanders into the wild dampness beyond.

The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat
Photo Credit: user/tacocat212/
The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat
Photo Credit: user/tacocat212/

Later, the sentinel ascends to the high tower. From this velvet covered perch, he surveys his territory. The posture is compact, paws tucked neatly beneath the chest in a perfect shape of containment. The gaze is direct and piercing. He is the master of the room, the silent judge of all activity below. There is no need for a crown when one possesses such majestic ears and a gaze that commands absolute respect.

The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat
Photo Credit: user/tacocat212/

But a ruler also needs solitude. In the warm glow of the evening, he turns away. The world sees only a cascade of dark silk, a landscape of fur that ripples with every breath. By presenting his back, he signals a withdrawal, a moment of private contemplation where the noises of the house are tuned out. He is a dark mountain, unmovable and deep in thought.

The Silent Reign of the Indoor Cat
Photo Credit: user/tacocat212/

Finally, the vigilance dissolves into soft exhaustion. The guard is down. Stretched out on the textured blanket, he surrenders to gravity. The paws, usually so quick and sharp, extend forward in a gesture of total trust. The eyes close, and the hunter chases shadows in a land of dreams, safe and warm, drifting through a long, peaceful nap.


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