Every morning this cat sat in the garden, staring at the house like he was waiting for someone who never came. Even in the snow, he curled up by the door, cold, quiet, and alone.
The woman inside had allergies and never wanted a cat, but she kept seeing his eyes through the window. He never cried, never scratched, just watched with a shattered little heart that seemed to beg without sound.
Day after day, season after season, he returned to the same spot, as if that doorstep was his only hope in the world. Some animals do not wander. They wait, believing love might open the door.
