You know, every person has someone or something that makes their home real.

For me, it's a cat. Yes, a cat.

Not a husband, not children, not a goldfish, not a ficus in the corner.

Although I do have a ficus, too - it suffers from a lack of attention and is sometimes jealous.😂😂

The cat's name is Leah. She appeared in my life completely by accident - as if someone from above decided that I lacked this fluffy little ball of impudence and tenderness at the same time.
I wasn't in the best shape then: tired, overloaded, sleepless nights and a feeling that I was just existing, not living.
And here is Leia. Small, thin, with some almost human look.

I picked her up near the store. She didn't meow. 😻 She just sat next to me and looked, as if she was waiting. Well, that's it... now she sleeps on my pillow, drinks water from my glass (to my quiet indignation) and comes to my lap every evening when I'm sad - as if she knows how to save me.

She makes my loneliness a little less lonely.

She teaches me to slow down. To stop. To listen.

Because, it turns out, happiness is not a loud "hurray", but this quiet, warm purring nearby.

I'm not sure why exactly I'm writing to you.
Maybe I just want there to be a person somewhere out there, on the other end, who also knows how to notice small miracles in ordinary things.
Who is interested not only in how I look, but also how I feel.

And you... do you like cats?

Or maybe you have your own furry philosopher with whom you share your morning and windowsill?

If you read all this, thank you. It means you know how to listen. And that's rare. 😘😊

I'll be glad to hear your answer. Who knows, maybe this will be the beginning of something amazing? 🤗😸