Black and orange splattered on the clean blue rug. Upside down purring ball of fur proves to be the cat. Indoor, outdoor, named for function one time barn cat, but she seems more than that. Mamaki is what most cats are not. She enjoys the company of people. Me, oddly enough, more than the rest. When I am home she follows me about. Sleeping while I type essays on the computer, resting on the hamper while I bathe, curled under the blankets with me at night. This cat is not the ordinary cat. If I were in the middleages I’d be burned as a witch, and she my familiar.