Trygg Celebrates St. Patrick's Day

I wake up a bit later than usual. On my own. Without benefit of Trygg.

I head to the bathroom. The door is closed. I knock. No answer. I knock again. Trygg opens the door. He's standing there in his bathrobe holding his toothbrush.

"Sorry."

"Isn't it always the way?" he says. "You always complain that I wake you early. Today I let you lie in and I can't even have a few moments to myself."

He leaves. I feel guilty.

I brush my teeth. The door opens. Trygg comes in, gets his dental floss out of the cupboard and leaves.

I go into the kitchen to get my coffee. I see him watching the parade. He's ignoring me. I go to pour my coffee. I see a shamrock and a note by my cup. "Happy St. Patrick's Day." I see a muffin with a slice of ham on it. The muffin is green. So is the ham. (It's the thought that counts.) None-the-less, I go in to thank Trygg and to apologise.

I put my arm around him.

"Happy St. Patrick's Day, Trygg."

He doesn't respond.

"I'm sorry. Thanks for the shamrock. And the green muffin and ham."

He looks up at me. (He looks up to me, too. He just won't admit it.)

"I wanted to make things nice for you. I saved the ham from St. Valentine's Day."

He sees the doubt.

"You're not supposed to eat the ham. It's the thought that counts."

I give him a hug. The pipers come on. He meows. Soon, I hear more meows. His friends are waiting for him outside. I let him out. I know I will see him later. Much later.

Even the Cat Winks. =^.~=

Regards,

Slim