Roxy by Matthew Favreau

She looks at me
Her mellow amber eyes tinged with luminescent green
She listens as I speak to her
Intent, focused, understanding every word, every fluctuation
As no human ever could

The glimmer of her silver fur
As she bathes luxuriously in the warmth of the sun
The delicate purple pads tucked beneath her chest
She stretches, rises, sits, each motion, each move perfect in its timing, its gait
Its beauty

She is the Queen of the house and no one dares dispute it
The Sheba of every armchair, every pillow, every rug worthy enough of her
She knows all this
That she is worth a thousand times the finest pearls
And yet she chooses to lie beside me