This is a longer story, so it will take four chapters. Lady is NOT Mycat, but she is a phenomenon in her own right.
For info on Ren Faire, see KPMom's 26 years.
_____________________________________________________________________________
Memorial to Lady - Chapter I
Lady was a delicate little black cat who lived with me for twenty-six years, but I only knew her for three of them.
I guess that opening statement requires a little explanation. I was living in a two-cat household, with an elderly cat named Spot (a la Data), and a new rescue tortoiseshell kitten I called Goblette. Goblette was an alpha cat and was destined to become my forever cat, but her legend is another story. One day I heard a commotion outside my back door, and I discovered two little boys, trying to bury two little kittens alive.
The kittens were objecting, and so did I. It took me about three seconds to rescue the kittens and bring them in to make a four-cat household.
One of the new kittens was a tortoiseshell--almost a twin to Goblette--whom I called Other, (as in 'That other tortoiseshell cat'), and the second was black, small, fragile, and ladylike, hence Lady.
Lady was small, but her feet were tiny; so tiny that as she grew, when she walked upon my person, her feet hurt me. Goblette, who was twice Lady's size, didn't hurt at all; her feet were as big as saucers. Sort of like the difference between a woman's stilleto heel and a moccasin. So, for her first twenty-three years, except for an illness which she survived and another cat didn't, Lady's feet were the most noteworthy thing about her.
The household was organized thusly--as long as Spot was alive, the two alpha cats divided the house between them; Spot reigned in the kitchen and dining room, Goblette had the bedrooms and bathrooms, and the living room was neutral space. When Spot passed on to the Elysian Fields, Goblette reigned supreme.
As for Other and Lady, they lived in Goblette's shadow. They were fed, petted, sheltered, doctored when necessary, but they had only a marginal effect on the household. No real, serious attention was given to them, and they asked for none in return. And so things went for twenty-three years.
In the fullness of time, Other passed away, and then Goblette. And that left Lady, hale, hearty, sprightly, just starting to get deaf, but with no other signs of her age. I worried that she could be lonely, could grieve for her companions. How wrong could I be?
_____________________________________________________________________________
Tomorrow, Chapter II
Is everybody OK with serial stories? 'Cause I've got more, not necessarily about cats, but nature stories and observations.
Until tomorrow, bless you all. KPMom.
