Kitty

I am four again.

Lincoln Logs scattered about the dusty hardwood floor.

I am asleep, sock monkey clutched in my little hands. The bed has sheets with cowboys and indians chasing each other across them.

The window is open and a warm, spring breeze fills my room with the scent of my mothers rose garden.

I awake to the sound of purring. A young black and white cat has climbed thru the open window, curled up next to me and fallen asleep.

I named her Kitty and she was by my side for the next twelve years.

After Kitty died, I developed an allergy to cats and have remained catless since.

I still miss that cat.