1. December 11 was the day, three years ago this year, that the White Lady, my Maine Coon queen, came to me. Skittish and unsure at first (who was this new human? where was this new place? what is happening here?) she has come to rule the roost with a tufty-footed preposterous Coonish paw, and is definitely the One In Charge. She just turned five years old in November, she’s still full of kittenish beans, and she is a joy in my life, one of the few things left that make me laugh out loud. I am grateful for her every shared day that we have together, even though she is sometimes Trouble (that cat MATS if you LOOK AT HER WRONG…I spend my days chasing her to brush her out…). But she’s special, and I am glad that she’s mine to hold and to care for and to adore.
this is her on her first day home. You can tell she’s on ALERT. Look at those ears. She did mellow…
2. We have no real way of knowing how old my Little Emperor really is, his having been born on the mean streets without human witness, but they said he was “Around two years old” when he came to me, which was Christmas 2013. So we have always taken his gotcha day, CHristmas day, to be his birthday, and we have taken them at their word that he was two when he arrived here – which means that on Christmas day 2025 he will be turning 14. He’s my little old man. He’s been with me through a lot. He’s been cried into many times. He accepts that, and snuggles, and purrs, and heals. I nearly lost him to a bad urinary blockage episode a few years ago, and I’ve taken every day I’ve had with him since as a gift. There will come a day that he has to leave me, and on that day my heart will break – but while he is here he is treasured. And spoiled. And treated like… well… like a Little Emperor.
that’s him from the back in his favourite position. In my lap.
These are the creatures who give me a reason to get up in the morning.
I am grateful for them both.
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