The bride of 38 years has a bedroom and the damned thing is open to cats 24/7. When the bed is unmade little Shiloh makes forts and caves with the covers and pillows and gets buried. When made up like most days with a furry comforter thrown upon it the tomcat leaps upon it and goes nuts with joy while crashing for a sleep.
Tonight the momcat Mister Mittens is laid out upon the bed and just loves going "Sphinx" upon it. I'm thinking she slept in some rough places as a kitten while being abused by street cats and becoming pregnant. And hustling for food while dodging cars and dogs and people. Yeah, she's still a bit "wild" but we are so happy that this girl is spayed and healthy and young and not altogether a crazy female feline.
Jeez, it was my son John who first befriended her as a kitten. He was the fellow that gave her the first "human touch". And she would mew and come out of a hiding place in my yard to come to him and catch a petting and a can of Bumblebee tuna. Last July while knocked up and in labor as a young girl barely out of kittenhood she knew where to cry and scratch at a door and dig a birthing nest.
She's two now. She's our's. We love her.
