He was afraid.
I could feel the fear coming off of him in waves.
Yet, he was also hungry.
He’d had to fend for himself on the streets, you see.
I could see, as he approached, the scar tissue.
So many fights.
Too many nights without food.
Caution is a inborn trait.
A fine one, really.
It protects us from ourselves at times.
At other times, it protects us from others.
He was cautious, yet hopeful.
Perhaps this night he would not go without.
There was a chance he might even fill his stomach.
Yet he still used the caution bred in him before getting closer.
I provided the food he needed.
He ate whilst keeping one eye on me.
I felt pity.
I wished I could do more.
But you can only do so much with one who has been hurt too badly to trust.
Time is needed.
Great care, so as not to rip open any scar tissue that hasn’t quite healed.
He was riddled with it.
I could see patches of scar tissue on his shoulder.
Part of a ear was missing.
It’s no wonder he didn’t venture out more often.
He looked a wreck.
He felt a wreck.
Being an empath comes in handy sometimes.
It allows you to feel what others feel.
In doing so, you can see what can be salvaged, if anything.
When the world has continued to rape and pillage one’s soul.
So little hope in the world today.
All about oneself.
Never about the other.
We learn fear of the other at our parents knee.
Sometimes, we fear for ourselves at our parent’s knees.
This only increases the self preservation genes we are born with.
We know we must do for ourselves.
Do we ever realize others feel as hopeless.
Need as much as we do?
There are people who care.
I’m not going to say I’m necessarily one of them.
Because it depends on how you feel to me.
If you live for yourself, you can fuck off.
If you try to do for others as well as yourself.
If you have seen some shit in your life.
Been through some shit.
I’ll do just about anything I can for you.
If you sacrifice for others.
Specifically if you sacrifice for others and always put yourself last.
I’m gonna have some problems with you.
There is a fine line between sacrifice and becoming a door mat.
For others to step on.
Many give too much, taking little or nothing at all.
Take some for yourself.
All this and more flew threw my mind as he shoveled the food in.
He looked up at me.
Our eyes met.
His a shade of blue that matched the dawn sky.
He opened his mouth, as if to speak.
I knew I would see him again.
One of the many perks of being a psychic.
I sat there, pondering our world.
The world that let him down.
The world that lets us all down.
As well it should.
Life is not meant to be pretty.
The worst experiences create wisdom.
I got up and walked into my house.
Did my thing.
The next few weeks, he came back every single night.
Every single night I gave him food.
Then I went on vacation.
I felt I might see him again.
But I was not sure.
I thought about him on vacation.
Him and others like him.
In the worst of circumstances.
Good souls perhaps because of the worst of circumstances.
If life does not test you.
You do not become strong.
How do you tell the good from the utterly self absorbed, stinking messes we all encounter?
He came back.
I brought food out for him to eat.
He did something different this time.
In the midst of eating.
He left his meal.
Came over hesitantly.
Mounted the steps where I was perched, smoking a cigarette (hey, nobody’s perfect).
I gingerly reached out my hand.
First physical contact is always rife with uncertainty.
He rubbed his head on my hand.
Scent glands are located on either side of a cat’s jaw.
He marked me as his own.
I stroked him gently, getting rid of all the fur needing shed for summer months yet to come.
He purred his delight.
I thought again about good souls and not so great souls.
I thought about how one can’t always tell which is which.
I thought about trust.
Trust must be earned over time.
It is not a given in any relationship.
Nor should it be.
Trust earned is the sweetest fruit of all that exist.
I earned White Cat’s trust today.
As so often seems to be the case.
I find myself writing yet again about an animal.
Yet I find it fitting.
Many believe animals were put on this earth for our use.
Believe in the concept of “dumb animals.”
I see and believe something very different.
I see souls that need love, touch, affection.
As much as we do.
How can one tell good from bad in humanity.
If they cannot see humanity in animals?
Within every experience.
Lies a lesson.
From the smallest lessons do great things burst forth.
Be willling to see and learn from the smaller things.
From observation and examination.
May we all be wise.