But that Pisces guy is more in touch, in an obvious way, with his feelings than you are. There are very few guarded Pisces guys. Ask him, he’ll tell you how he is feeling, at that very moment. So much for the good news.
There was the nicest stray cat in this one apartment complex I lived. He was all black except for a little tuft of white hair on his chest. He was also a Pisces male. That should be, he was a typical Pisces male. He would cat around all night, and then show up on my doorstep in the morning. Rather than say he was hungry, he would just look at me with those forlorn cat eyes, and I would give him food.
I did, eventually, put a cute pink flea collar on him, too. That worked pretty well. The way I know he was a standard–issue Pisces cat was something that happened one night. There was typical Texas spring storm. There was high wind, rain in great sheets. Some folks reported seeing a tornado funnel cloud someplace. The cat was sitting on my door mat, soaking wet. If he had moved over a mere three feet, he would have been in a dry spot, but the lashing rain was soaking this guy. He didn’t scratch at the door, or meow. He just sat there until I let him in.
This did not go over too well with my indoor Mama cat, but she did let him know that he wasn’t allowed out from under the couch, but he could stay the night. At least as long as it was raining that hard.
You can’t help but have pity on the guy. You can’t help but believe that he needs your mercy. But he’s a foxy little critter, that Pisces. However, just like that stray, when he looks in your eyes, you have no choice but to take him in.