My Shadow

Growing up, I don't remember our cats being the constant companion that Gigi is. It seems that whatever room I'm in, she appears seconds later. As a matter of fact, I don't even notice when she comes in. It's more like I look up and--she's just there. I move from the kitchen to the dining room and to the office where I work, and Gigi is like my shadow. She's interested in the newspaper and what I'm eating, and she stands still as a statue watching me wash dishes. I haven't figured out if its the steam from the hot water or the soap bubbles that interest her. Once I've finished the dishes, she likes to step daintily into the kitchen sink and sit there for awhile. It's like her personal spa area, warm and clean and soothing. When I'm in the bathroom, if I don't open the bathroom door when she scratches at it, one paw comes under the door, an invitation to play. It's late at night when everyone else is asleep that I appreciate my shadow. Whether I'm putting out the garbage or throwing in some laundry, there's my little friend, following me about, interested in the task at hand, and keeping me amused by her actions.