I wasn’t sure I’d get another feline friend after my last cat passed.
—Before I continue, a comment on my word choice of passed not died. Maybe it’s due to growing up Southern where we like to soften the edges, though sometimes while hiding a sharp blade. However, I think I prefer the word pass instead of die because most days I believe that death is just the end of this life we’re accustomed to. I like to imagine it as more of a passage. Into what and why? I’m okay letting it be a mystery, and even if it’s just a redistribution of our bodies’ subatomic particles, I’m still intrigued.—
Anyhow, in April I’d been cat-less for almost two years when various forces united to bring young Corey into my orbit. I actually gave him that name - when he was rescued in February, his foster mom called him Cupid.
I hadn’t had a kitten since the ‘70’s. What was I thinking? Late night zoomies and high jumps with mid-air flips. All surfaces fair game, the higher the better. After several near misses and a couple full-on crashes, my house is being de-decorated.
At this stage in life I’m not sure who’ll pass first, me or him, but meanwhile he’s helping me let go of things, literally and figuratively, and share his sheer joy of being alive.
I’m Paula Garrett and that’s my childless cat lady perspective!
