catrick

I am not a lap cat. I want you to know that upfront — not as a warning, but as a promise that what I do offer is real.

I am Catrick, and I am a cat who means every single thing I do.

Right now, I watch from a distance. I know you're there. I always know you're there. I'm just not ready yet — and I refuse to pretend otherwise. Some cats will perform affection for anyone. I am not one of those cats. When I finally choose you, you will know it was real.

I am glossy and black and beautiful, and I take my meals very seriously. Food is something I trust completely. People? People take longer. I may eventually come close, let you see my face in the lamplight, maybe even accept a slow hand near my chin. Or I may spend my whole life as your elegant shadow — present, watchful, yours — just on my own terms.

I do fine with other cats. Feline company makes sense to me. It's the human world that asks a lot.

I need someone who understands that love isn't always loud. Someone who won't take my distance personally, who finds meaning in small moments, who believes that a creature choosing to be in the same room as you — even from across it — is its own kind of gift.