My husband and I are cat-sitting these days. We donít know how long weíll be cat sitting, however, but for now itís just fine. We are cat-sitting for Emma, the cat. Her family has had to move to a condo where they do not allow pets. Fortunately! She came fully trained, came with litter box, cat toys, cat food and a good disposition. She is a great lady cat, and well into her senior years. I donít know how cat years are calculated for cats, but fortunately for us humans it works a little differently. She is about 15 years old and if someone had told me that I was an old lady at 15 it would not have made me feel very good about myself, thatís for sure!

Anyway, I was not overly excited about cat-sitting, especially since we still donít know how long it is going to be. But! Things change when an animal doesnít need much attention. The only thing she seems to crave is a bit of attention when you get home.

When I get home I come in and put my things down and I can hear her padding down the wooden steps on her little cat feet, she is coming to greet me and she is very vocal about it. She looks at me and meows very sweetly, sometimes, maybe after a particularly rough day of bird-watching through the living room window sheíll have a meow that sounds more scolding. I call her to the room by her "things." I find her favorite brush and begin to brush her black and white coat. Oh my, were that ecstasy was this easily secured. She literally rolls her head like a rag doll, and if I can exaggerate a bit, she probably rolls her eyes inside her skull. I like to see that I can make her so happy.

I am learning to understand her language. For, 'welcome home' it's great to see you!î she says "MEOW!". For "why were you gone so long, Iíve missed you" she says "MEOW!" For "take me outside for a while" she says "MEOW"; "Letís go back in," you got it, she says "MEOW." Sheís a simple cat, what can I say!

Though Emma, the cat has free reign of the house, the only room she is not allowed access to is the master bedroom. I am growing used to her waiting patiently at the bedroom door every morning after the alarm goes off. She gives us about 30 minutes before she begins her pleading sounding "meows," (yes, these have a different tone and range) asking us to exit and come feed her and pet her. When I open the door she does not try to come in, rather she looks up at me, gives one silent meow, I say GOOD MORNING, EMMA! And we go down the stairs together where she follows me from cupboard to bowl. If she were human, she'd lick her lips and make smacking sounds, but given that she isn't quite human she just sits on her haunches and keeps a steady gaze on me just in case I should drop some food. I let her lick the fork and then give her, her morning breakfast. She is content for a little while. I am able to complete my morning routine, but if I am taking a bit too long applying that last bit of mascara, she lets me know it and she begins her pleading meows again.

I am getting used to her being in our house. I am getting used to being needed again. I am getting used to her waiting for me as though I am something special in her life. I know I will miss her when her family comes to claim her again. She's such a sweet little lady cat. I'm glad I've had the privilege of housing her while we have had the chance. I've learned that she is pretty special in my life too!