P.C. is what I keep saying.

Porch Kitty has now morphed into P.C., and she will sometimes come when I call her that. I’ll cautiously assume this means she approves. Unlike before, when I didn’t respect her space and choice as I should have, I have learned to sit on our porch step and let her come to me. I have to be sitting specifically and if I wait, she’ll come and brush against my hand, my arm, and back. I treasure this affection from her, and I don’t take its meaning lightly. We all need companionship, both to receive it and to give it.

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