The taming of his black cat

He began with a name,
It was a simple concept,
An assured attribute,
Unique to only him,
Something only he will respond to,

Then came the fried fish,
Some were leftovers,
Some were specially bought,
But the single most important quality,
Was that the fish is there every day,
Not a single day missed,
Signalling a bounding commitment,
Between an old man and a generation of black cats.

And so they were there everyday,
And will be there in the coming days,
Taking turns waiting for one another,
With a silent acknowledging nod they came,
And with a trailing gaze they left.

And as I sat there motionless,
Separate from their contract of fishes and names,
I came to see that they are a genuine sketch of honesty,

The one and only way for black and white to come together.