text: My human stirred at last! It felt like an eternity as I waited at the foot of the warm bed. This was all new. Usually, it was just the two of us, meowing for breakfast and her shuffling around with her sad, tired eyes. Not today though! Something shifted. This morning, her movements held purpose, a flicker of the old bounce I remembered when I was a kitten. The sunlight was blinding as we stepped out. She hesitated, holding onto the doorframe like a lifeline. My whiskers twitched. I knew this world outside, the noises of big metal things whizzing by and the many strange smells, and it was time she faced it again. Time she remembered that there was more to life than our small, quiet apartment. “*Alright, Duchess*,” she said, her voice a bit shaky and hesitant. “*We’re going for a walk*.” She sounded surprised by her own words, even I could tell. I gave a headbutt to her leg, a gentle encouragement. I knew the boys would be next door already, and I knew they needed to join us for our walk today. Finally, we were moving! Slowly, like the little humans learning to walk, the familiar smells of pigeons and salty air filled my nostrils. A hopeful feeling stirred in my furry chest. Maybe today would be different? I called out to my mate and our boys, rousing them from their lazy sprawl on the nice old lady’s stairs. They perked up when our human appeared beside me. They cheered and came bounding over. Nibby, my mate, walked close to her, his tail held high, making sure to show her the way to our paradise. She hadn’t been there with us, so he wanted to be the guide. Then, we saw the green! The small park with its big, welcoming trees. Me and my boys, we knew this would be exactly what we all needed. My human even smiled, just a tiny bit, as we made our way to a quiet bench. We sat there for...forever! My eyes got heavy, basking in the sun’s warmth, comforted by her rhythmic strokes on my fur. It had been so long since we’d enjoyed the sun together like this. I purred from sheer enjoyment. The boys did what they always do: climbed the trees, and, chased little birdies and those other things with bushy tails. I don’t do that so much anymore. My human says there is something wrong inside me, an invisible hurt. Some man in a white coat took one of my toes and its claw last year. So I get tired sometimes, and I don’t bounce as high as my boys do. But I so enjoyed sharing our little paradise with my human! She brought us our water bowl and filled it from the cooling fountain, which cooled us off in the heat. She forgot her own, so I will remind her next time. Squirrels scampered, birds chirped, and even children laughed nearby. She watched them, not flinching the way she used to. The noises that used to send her scurrying back inside... seemed quieter now, maybe even softer. A hopeful meow rumbled in my throat. On the walk home, her steps were steadier, her breath lighter. I purred as loud as I could, weaving between her legs in a dance of encouragement. She laughed at me and said “Be careful now, so we both don’t fall over!” Back in our apartment, as I settled into my favorite sunbeam, while I waited for my lunch, I felt a contentment I hadn’t in a long while. My human was sad, still hurting, that much I knew. But this morning, on our simple walk, I saw a glimmer of the woman she used to be. Maybe, just maybe, she was remembering all the good things outside our door too... Just a very few days later, my human surprised me again. She put on those funny coverings on her feet, the ones we cats don’t understand, and headed for the door. The morning air held a hopeful smell of fresh rain and those sweet little flowers that grow at the park’s edge. Our walk was like the last - slow and steady, with me and the boys weaving in and out of her legs. Maybe she was getting braver, or perhaps she liked those tree shadows as much as I did. As we entered the park, I felt her stiffen for a moment. My ears pricked up. Trouble? But no, her eyes widened with a different kind of look. Across the green, under one of the big, old trees, sat another human. A female human. She was laughing at something and waved when she spotted my human. My human hesitated for a second, then cautiously walked forward. Me and the boys followed, of course. Nibby, a true gentleman, rubbed against the newcomer’s legs in greeting. My boys, always curious, sniffed the strange human’s shoes. Then we recognised the scent! This human used to visit our house all the time, she used to have treats in her pockets. We all greeted her enthusiastically, and she DID have treats in her pockets. Runt, my son, jumped in the kind lady’s lap and purred, and then she hugged our human. Her friend had a kind and soft energy about her. She reminded me of a time when there were always visitors to our apartment, the sounds of laughter, music and the smell of strange but delicious foods. It had been so long. The humans talked for a long time. I basked in the sun, feeling the warmth seep into my old bones, watching little birds in the sky and remembering when I was young and agile enough to attempt to get them - though I never did manage to jump high enough. The two old friends pointed a lot, sometimes at us cats, sometimes at the pigeons pecking for crumbs. My human even laughed a few times, a rusty sound, but it made my whiskers twitch with happiness. We stayed so long at the park that it became time for dinner; the whole day had gone by without our human noticing. As we walked home, I noticed my human’s hands weren’t clenched into tight fists like usual. She’d relaxed her shoulders too. I gave her ankles a soft headbutt. She looked down and smiled, a real smile this time. That evening, she even played with me and the boys, dangling a string which I almost - almost - managed to catch. Maybe things were changing. Maybe a little more light could find its way back inside our apartment.