The women had thrown him out. He’d wanted to test the marinara and been swatted away with a wooden spoon. Momma had given him the serious ‘do not touch’ look and he’d gotten turned around deciding where to go next. Away had been a good answer. But when he’d sidled up to Cissy and broke into a spontaneous rendition of “Caro Mio Ben” he’d been unceremoniously banished. Cissy had seemed to like being serenaded. He would give it a try later. After the moon had risen perhaps. He sighed. He would have to behave throughout dinner. Be polite, not step on anyone’s toes.
He stretched languorously in the evening sun and began to wash up. He was only half done when Rosso bounded onto the patio, all big feet and slobbering tongue. He leapt to his feet and sprang onto the patio table. Goodness how he hated that bell like bark. He hissed his displeasure. Momma came out of the kitchen and gave Rosso a head rub before shooing him away.
“Come here, Casanova.” He let her pick him up and he rubbed his head under her chin. She sighed and took him inside. As the door opened back up, he purred.
Someone left the Gate in the Woods ajar and I stole this first line from an untended windowsill. I am unrepentant. Visit that gate tomorrow to see what she wrote with this first line.