Tiny Steps

He crouches hopefully on our back steps. He is waiting for his supper and I, as his regular waitress, do not disappoint. I bend to pet his wiry black whiskers, touch the tip of his tiny pale nose. He visits morning and night, without fail, has his breakfast and supper here, leans against my leg for a bit of a petting, then takes off for parts unknown (unknown to me, at least... he is…