In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.
Terry Pratchett
The Witch is the barn’s cat. She moves freely, does what she wants, when she wants. Living the cat’s lifestyle to the fullest. On this particular day, I was a bit tired after running around for hours, so I decided to sit down on the ground. And there she appeared.
The Witch.
She strolled towards me like nothing mattered, graciously putting one paw infront of the other.
She didn’t seem bothered by me, so I started snapping some photos of her, as she elegantly moved toward the barn’s door.
She lingered a couple of seconds there, rubbing herself against the wooden pole. And then, just as I wanted to pet her, she quickly turned and ran away and left me there with my hand out.
She makes the rules obviously, not me.
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