Dogs And Cats: A Memory

I was on my third cup of espresso. It was midnight and he was sitting across from me. It was a warm night. We were discussing whether we were cat people or dog people. I was trying not look at him for too long. He was too attractive for me. The tanned skin, the light brown hair, and the toned arms. I was feeling a bit out of sorts, he was too good-looking and too damn charismatic for me. He joked about taking me out – I was going to be his fill-in-girlfriend while the real gal was away for two weeks – yup, a fill-in-girlfriend without the sex. The mood was light, it was cute how the waiter tried to hit on me, secretly i was flattered, but maybe it was because i was an American. Probably the last place in the world where being an American is flattering.
He was a cat person – no need for other people, a loner.
- What was i? I thought i was always a dog person. But here i was wishing i was a cat person, ignoring all the warning signs of serious attachment, all the warning signs that as much as i wanted to be a cat, i was a dog at heart (a bitch if you will). I was becoming jittery – i joked about him taking me home to his place, no need to drive across the whole city – i was crashing on his couch. We drank my fourth espresso and the last cigarette of the night at our café. Caffeine has no effect on me, he looked a bit worried it was nearing one o’clock.
Climbing into bed i was shaking. Ok, right, caffeine has no effect on you. I could hear him preparing for bed, every sound piercing my skin. My mind was swaying with the trees going this way and that. The shaking and going out of my mind didn’t let up. The cat came in, slowly without a thought and climbed at the foot of the couch. He, then slowly climbed on my feet – relaxing and calming me for a bit. Even cats care sometimes, even they learn to love.