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  • trust
    It’s 4:30 on a snowy Leap Day and I’m sitting in a home that’s not my own, petting someone else's cats.
    Cat sitting for a friend is a lovely duty, a chance to step out of my life and into her home, her relationship with these furry companions.
    With her keys and time on my hands I could explore her books, her closet, jewelry box, medicine cabinet, wine cellar, refrigerator. I could, but I wouldn’t. She has trusted me with her life, her friends.
    She has left dried salmon treats for me to give the cats; they look up at me as though I’ve achieved some sort of demi-deity status. We all sit together in the living room, surrounded late snowy light, the sound of purring and a sense of immersion in trust and friendship.
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