In All the Wrong Places

On my way home I see a small tabby cat sitting on the sidewalk. As I near it, it seems to be a fairly brave cat. It’s not worried about me at all. But the instant I make eye contact with it, it darts through a metal gate and sits there, staring back.

I decide to stop and give it some attention. I hunch down and (slowly) offer my hand out, so it can smell me. No sudden moves – just an extended index finger so the cat can check me out. She (could be a "he," but I’m going to say "she") sniffs a bit, then backs off a bit.

I think to myself, "I’d like give some affection to this cat. It’s not asking me to, but I want to pet its head. I want to offer it some kindness." As I reach in a bit farther, the cat swats at my hand.

I pull back, thankful that it doesn’t have any claws. I stand up and I tell the cat, "Well, maybe some other time." I walk away.

As I’m walking, I try to assess everything that happened. Was I really hurt by what happened? Was it a good thing that I wanted to show some affection? Should I have shown any affection at all? Would I do the same thing next time, should the occasion present itself again?

Even when I’m single, I find myself thinking about relationships all the time.