eldesthing

Marcia is the fuzzy dog my aunt gave to my youngest brother. And Ming-ming is the snobbishly sweet cat my father feeds from his workplace but decided to bring home.

When Ming-ming came, he wanted to establish dominance, just do cat things. Marcia approached Ming-ming first, but he welcomed her with a few attempted scratches. They tolerate each other now, though.

I'm used to seeing them doing their own things separately, at least Ming-ming. Marcia sometimes tries to play with him. Ming-ming can't let go of his snob personality. So, Marcia retaliates on the deflection of affection she wants to give by barking when Ming-ming tries his luck with the food and scraps on the table. That's their dynamic.

One night when I went to the kitchen, I found Ming-ming guarding Marcia in her sleep. That's what it looks like to me. It's the first time I saw them that close. So, I sat and stayed for a while watching them. Maybe Marcia is having bad dreams, I thought. More than that, Ming-ming might not be that cold.

I sat there admiring their interaction. And the rarity of it.

I feel like I'm aimlessly floating and defeated these days. I think I'm in the state of finding little things to ground me. It might sound silly, but I committed these images to memory. Thankful that when I was fighting an internal battle, I found this snobbishly sweet cat guarding and sleeping close to the fuzzy, friendly dog.