The cat strides in

pawses beside the bed

chirps, announcing his intention of jumping up on the bed

He launches and alights

effortlessly as he is known to do

My hand reaches forward automatically

is surprised by proverbial cats and dogs in his fur

a postcast of the weather

I cover him with a towel

I rub and stroke

He struggles, indignant

but not overly so

for he knows this ritual

and its importance to humans

I move to the window to confirm that the street looks black

shining under streetlight

As if it can’t be true until I say the word

I say to myself

rain