They are the only ones who excite me. I am the only one who feeds them. Two cuddly cats with charcoal stained fur and glowing yellow eyes. Two who have always belonged here. Two rambunctious balls of fur westling together. From my room, I can hear them, and their little paws pounding the steps sounding like a herd of elephants.

Their curiosity is known. They send ambitious meows throughout the house. They jump up and they jump down and explore the house with their silent strutt and paw my legs for attention and never run out of energy. This is how live.

Let one come over to visit, they might just discover a new friend, but they’ll run back to me for I have the food. Meow, meow, meow they say when I sleep. They demand.

When I am too emotional and too grumpy, when a faint meow follows sudden, tiny prancing, they it is when they come to my rescue. When they can’t find a cozy spot to lay. Two who played until they couldn’t. Two who explore and do not forget to explore. Two who know nothing other than happiness.