Innocence lost

Michelle. At least that is what the impish kid next door was calling the cat following him around in the building's parking lot. He seemed to be talking to the feline, who I believe, was responding. Michelle is one of the kittens that grew up in the building's parking lot, surviving on scraps from the garbage bin I guess. But that's not the point. The boy's affection for the cat took me down memory lane when the pain of stray cats and dogs left me upset for days. Does not happen anymore. Don't know when all that changed, but it has. The cat was perhaps the boy's biggest concern on the day apart from his school work and television time (he was too young to be bothered with girlfriends, I think). My immediate concern was heading to the liquor store to replenish my bar in view of a weekend party. I was thinking about how to enjoy work amid all the politics in a newsroom. I was thinking about my vacation back home in Goa. And yes, I was enduring a blasted toothache. Cats and their problems be damned. Even one named after the First Lady of the United States.
One's appreciation for the small things of life dulls as one grows older. I believe some call that wisdom. You battle with life for so long that amid all the blood and gore you forget who you once were. You have come so far that going back is just not an option. So you battle on.
The boy will grow up to learn that Michelle is but a tiny speck in his world. There will be many other issues demanding his attention. Bills, rent and work will play on his mind and Michelle's meowing will be ignored.
One day the boy will look back and wonder what happened, what changed?
He will then write a blog.

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