Final Touches

It was a warm, humid summer day that started like any other- lazily. My cousin Katie had just called me from her pale yellow cottage two doors down the lane. The nanosecond after she calls I get a massive jumpstart on my outlook and sprint to her yard. She stands there with a grin as wide as Christmas, exhibiting her braced teeth and a periwinkle colored, ceramic dish in hand.

Together, we pad down the stepping stones to her backyard adorned with tiny handprints. When we reach her yard, I begin to wonder. What is Katie up to? Slowly, I breathe in silent rapture as three petite kittens crawl out from under a large wooden carton. Katie places the dish on a stump and fills it with milk from a carton on the grassy floor.

Three kittens- grey, black and calico- gather around the bowl like petals on a daisy, lapping up the milk with their tongues. Katie is giggling, her laugh like tinkling bells as I tiptoe closer, secretly yearning to sweep my hand over the grey cat’s fur like dandelions on a breeze.

As if a miracle, because to me it is, the thunder cloud colored kitten sneaks away from the others and toward my hand. It is one of those frozen moments that remain in your head as only a dream.

Later, I recalled the scene in slow motion; the kitten stepped on my hand, with her short pink tongue extended toward me and licked my hand. You know, it really only takes the blink of an eye to add the finishing touch on an perfect day- just like the last stroke of a striking painting.