The fuzzy tail flicks as the kitty shows off her small, white teeth. Her whiskers lift as her tongue sweeps across her lips.
She peeks out, her head ducking beneath a wooden beam. She kneads her paws, moving one step, then another. She ducks her body beneath the wooden support and twists her head to rub her ears vigorously across the rough surface.
If I move too quickly, she’s gone; if I move too close, she’s gone. I talk to her as I move forward, telling her not to worry, that I’m her buddy. I promise cuddles and kisses and better ear-scratches than an inanimate object.
I can get within ten feet of her before she runs. She’s learned that when I move to the corner, something delicious will appear in a bowl–kitty food, both dry and wet, along with treats. Her nose quivers in anticipation.
Someday I’ll lure her from the hay bales and into my lap. She’ll purr with satisfaction and I’ll croon compliments about her soft fur and sweet nature.
Until then, I’ll be patient to watch for a fuzzy kitty’s tail to flick.