What It Means to Be Alone

As I’m sitting on the carpet stretching out my hamstrings, I’m nose-level with the litter box, and I can smell it needs changing. I just finished chasing my cat around the apartment. His pupils were dilated until they almost completely eclipsed his golden irises. Hiding under the bed now, he’s frightened witless. I often wonder if he sees me as a kind of god-like creature, sometimes loving, giving, providing. Sometimes the bearer of great incomprehensible wrath. Of course I would … Read on…