I must say this right now. I am, at heart, a cat lover. I have had 2 cats in my lifetime who were very special to me. Puss lived to the ripe old age of 19. Her incredibly original name came about because I was 6 when she came into my life, and even though I tried calling her Sally, or Jane, or Susan, or Sarah, none of those names stuck. My dad must have thought the cat needed more consistency, and eventually Puss was the only name we could always remember. Puss was a long-haired grey cat – a real beauty. She was a tremendous companion to grow up with. I left Puss at home with my parents when I went away to university, where my second cat found me. Ritz moved into an apartment I was going to rent, so I suppose technically I moved in with him. Ritz, my long-haired sandy tabby made it to 17. That’s a long time to be together and I still miss both of them.
Unfortunately both of my daughters have developed allergies to cats, so I won’t be getting another one. But since both of my sons now own cats (or are they owned by cats?), I do get to have them around once in a while. This is Brad’s cat Eno, chilling on his old scratching pad, and sleeping on his daytime bed. Eno is strictly an indoor cat.
And this is Tiger. I don’t know where he lives, but he loves to visit. He would come in if he could, and he will sit on my lap so I can comb him – very friendly indeed. He climbs all over the covered bar-b-que area, and often sits waiting at the door.
This was the first time Tiger and Eno met – through the glass of the dining room door. And the last picture shows the two of them touching noses through the screen in the dining room just last week. They are both curious and reserved, safe in their own worlds. Eno is moving to the coast in another month, so Tiger will be my buddy, at least as long as the weather is good. I don’t expect to have feline house guests again, since it makes it almost impossible for my girls to stay here. Girls trump cats.