On Cats

When I was in second grade, all I wanted was a cat to name Melody. My parents were never big on animals, so when the day came and we brought home a black cat with thumbs, I was thrilled. Instead of naming her Melody, I named her Mittens. She was all black, and of course the cat of my dreams, because I love love loved cats back then. A couple weeks went by, and my mom said the lady who gave us the cat wanted her back. I was heartbroken.

I also believed this story until I was 28 years old. It was not until last summer that my mom told me the TRUTH: she hated having a cat and gave it back to the woman. I always wondered what happened to Mittens, and what kind of life she had.

Now, we have two cats. Piper, the one-eared feral wonder, and Aurora, the deaf girl with bad knees. Piper really made me fall in love with cats all over again. My favorite part about cats is just watching them play and hunt. We don't have many bugs or flies in the house despite it being spring, and I give all of the credit to Piper. She sits at the patio door and in the window waiting for birds to show up or bugs to try and get through the screen. Aurora isn't too shabby on the hunting either. Together, they sit side by side at the patio at night and watch the moths flutter against the glass, jumping up and down as the moths fly away. It has only been about six weeks, but I'm hoping in time they grow to be the type of cat buddies who snuggle.