Life, at the risk of sounding like Forrest Gump, is like knitting – the great pattern of destiny, with a few dropped stitches in between.
Everything I do today can be traced back to someone that I never met, and am reasonably sure I wouldn’t like.
More years ago than I care to remember, that person dumped two tiny kittens in a bag in my garden. I had no previous experience of cats, but who could resist two helpless kittens? So, in a strange way, I owe a great debt to the callous actions of a stranger.
Mottley was shy and retiring. She loved sitting in the neighbour’s bird house. If the early bird catches the worm, then it was Mottley’s plan to catch the early bird. I don’t think she ever succeeded.
Then came Suma. Wow. Talk about an intellect. She was the sort of cat that if you found her with a pen and a sheet of graph paper working out pi to the 40th decimal place, you wouldn’t be in the least surprised. Not that you could tell from this picture.
Then, Kipper. Oh! Kipper. Such a short time. He came as a small kitten from a rescue centre, but within a few days, it was clear that not all was well with him and a congenital disorder meant that he was put down by the vet. I could hardly believe how much grief I felt for a kitten I’d only know a few days.
After Kipper came the current crew – Parker, a very bad tempered adolescent cat. But she loves me and I her. She never quite forgave Mr Stripey Pants or Brian for moving in with us. She’s kind of a one woman cat. Brian & Mr SP are pictured during one of the grooming sessions that Mr SP deems necessary to make Brian presentable. He may well be right.
There’s a LOLcat in that pic somewhere!
And of course, there’s Mojo. But he’s been photographed so much, he’s practically got his own website. Magic Mojo. He’s some cat. He’s the one with me in the banner at the top of the page. Quite a unique cat. But aren’t they all.
For all their size, they’ve each left an indelible mark on me.