Cats

"When I play with my cat, who knows if I am not a passtime more to her than she is to me?" -- Michel de Montaigne

I have two cats. The oldest one has been with me for 6 years now. She's rather amazing. She was born with only a tiny fluff of tail because of bobcat blood in her family tree. Her mother was that way as was her great-uncle whom my parents owned. She's excessively sassy. When I was looking over the litter of kittens to figure out which one I might want, she was the only one to look directly at me with eyes still cornflower blue, open her toothless mouth, and hiss at me. She looked like a vicious dustbunny. I fell hopelessly in love. I don't know what sort of bizarre logic it requires to choose the only kitten in the litter who is actively grumpy, but she and I have been through a lot together. She's traveled in my vehicle and on planes with cat-like composure, although our experiences going through Memphis airport caused both of us a great deal of stress when she had to come out of the carrier so it could be examined for all those freaky things people want to take on board planes to kill other people these days.

My other cat is a more recent addition to the family. Last November, right before Thanksgiving, I was driving my mother home and we saw three cats sitting basically in the middle of the busy road that connects her house and mine. We slowed down and saw that two of the three were manx (tailess) as were our cats at home. I decided that if they were still sitting there when I came back, I'd pick them up and try to find them homes. One of the males wound up at Mom and Dad's; the other male and the tailess female came home with me. The male who came home with me has since been run over, so he's no longer with us. I found him on a Sunday afternoon, and I felt like someone had kicked me in the chest. I still look for him everytime I go outside. I miss him terribly.

His sibling/child (we don't know how they're related) was a big fluffy manx with leaf green eyes and the sweetest expression you've ever seen on a cat. How misleading. She's grown up into a butterball who loves to be petted, hates to be held, and will mow you down if you get between her and the food dish. She has never, not even when she was small enough to fit into my cupped hands, been afraid of my dog or my other cat. In fact, she stalks my other cat in a jealous rage if I try to pet her. She is one of the most stubborn creatures I've ever seen. I guess she fits right in.

Well, it's late and very cold here tonight, so it's the perfect time to climb into bed with my furry ones. I hope you, wherever you are, have furry ones of your own to keep you warm.