Second Wind

Sometimes I feel like my cat is my curfew enforcer. After hanging out with Jason or friends, I come home late at night expecting to enjoy a nice deep slumber. I walk up to my house, open the door, and there she is… A brown and tan tabby cat staring at me with a matriarch stare that says, ‘where have you been all night?’ She is usually sitting on the arm of our chair in my living room, or right next to the television, just looking at me with this stern stare. It is the kind of stare that a mother would give a child if they went past curfew. The look on her face is a combination of exhaustion, worry, relief, and wonder where I was all night. I almost feel myself wanting to verbally justify where I was all night, but the bottom line is that my cat is a cat. So what does any good owner do in this situation? I pat her on the head, tell her good night, and enjoy the slumber I was thinking about upon my arrival to my home.