The garden was exquisite, and quite pleasant in the early morning light before the sun was too hot.
Perfect for Francis.
He wandered here and there, admiring the exotic flowers and fruit trees, breathing in the sweet smells. This garden was quiet, blissfully devoid of any people.
He followed mosaic pathways past stone fountains, and miniature ponds with goldfish swimming among lily pads.
Near one pond, Francis spotted a cat. A calico, with a beautiful tri-coloured coat, and golden eyes. The cat seemed young; slim and small. But really, Francis was no expert.
He bent down and offered out one hand. “Hello, there,” he said softly.
The calico regarded him for a moment and didn’t move. Probably too interested in the goldfish.
Francis was determined to pet a cat. He lowered slowly into a crouching position, with the intent on offering his hand to the cat. Unfortunately, his sore muscles put up a protest, and Francis grunted in surprise.
The cat scampered off.
“Oh, no, wait!” Francis pleaded, struggling back into an upright position. “I didn’t mean to frighten you off. Mister cat?”
The calico had trotted off behind a neatly manicured hedge.
Francis followed, and came upon a gorgeous, oblong shaped fishpond, raised from the ground with a brim wide enough to sit on. Several cats of all different colours, long haired and short haired, were already making use of the stone edge to sit and watch the fish.
“Oh, hello, there,” Francis said, quietly so as not to scare them. “Hello, cats. My, there’s a lot of you. Aren’t you marvellous?”
He didn’t approach, concerned they would all leave if he did. Looking around, Francis noticed several ceramic dishes on the paving stones, all lined up in a row. The dishes were nearly all licked clean, with two cats eating what was left on the last dish.
Somebody had recently put these dishes of food out for the cats. That was nice.
“The service is good around here, eh?” Francis said.
The cats ignored him, so Francis slowly made his way to the edge of the pond. A couple of cats nearby darted off, but once Francis sat down and remained still, the cats returned to stare at him.
“No, I don’t have any food, I’m afraid,” Francis told them. “Looks like you’ve already had your breakfast.”
More cats approached him now. Clearly the trick was to sit down. Probably they felt less threatened.
Francis hoped they would come closer. He could wait. He was patient and had no plans to be anywhere else.
“Hello,” he murmured, offering out his hand again to a fluffy white cat.
This one sniffed his fingers then butted her head up against his hand.
Francis suppressed a little gasp. He’d petted a cat! Today was already a good day.
Now the ice was broken, more cats came over to him for pets. One even crawled onto his lap and started purring; a medium hair, light ginger cat with the faintest of stripes.
“Well, aren’t you handsome?” Francis told him, tickling the cat’s chin and neck. “Yes, very handsome.”
The cat purred, rumbling happily.
Francis, too, felt very happy. His first cuddle with a cat.
“What a handsome cat you are,” Francis said.
“He is Aslan,” someone said in German.
Francis turned to look at the source of the deep voice with a strong accent.
