He Just Stared Back at Me, Knowingly

I came home from work tonight to witness a Sopwith Camel flying slowly across the early evening sky.

About 45 minutes later, a pair of hot air balloons each took their turn sliding across the skyline and coming threateningly close to the surrounding houses and trees before tugging on their engine strings and shooting an enormous orange plume of fire upwards, lifting them back to safety.

Here on the ground, Spaz watched the proceedings intently. He is, if nothing else, a keen observer who diligently watches anything that might be out of the ordinary. In my mind's eye, he is a tenacious amateur detective and a stalwart night watchman. His eyes are usually wide and fixated on something. His attention span is huge, as cats' attention spans go. He watched the balloons for as long as they hung in the sky, and kept a silent, wide-eyed vigil for them for many minutes afterward.

Tonight, he is lounging in the most conspicuous-possible spot on the carpet. Having returned from the gym I am reading my RSS feeds and sipping on a protein shake at the dining room table. I turn around and his big eyes meet mine. "Thanks for protecting us from the hot air balloons," I say to him. The resulting gaze was long and meaningful.