If there’s anything I’m not afraid of owning up to, it’s being a ‘cat person’. I’ve had a series of them throughout my life, ever since I can remember. My childhood favorite was Lucy- an easy going feline who let me dress her in my baby doll clothes and push her around while she napped in my stroller. Before moving out and away from family and friends, I knew I really wanted a cat of my own to keep me company. Towards the end of this past summer a friend of mine mentioned that her Aunt had just found two kittens stranded in the woods behind her house. I quickly volunteered to adopt one of the kittens, claiming the black and white one in hopes that she resembled Lucy.
The day I went to pick up my little kitty, my friend’s Aunt suggested I actually take both kittens…how could I say no? Now about 5 months old, they spend their time lounging about our apartment, chasing pieces of paper, watching people passing by on the sidewalk from their spots in front of the screen door. They’ve developed different personalities. Merri (the gray tabby) is more reserved and less playful. She’s obnoxiously cuddly- that cat who sits right on your book or paper while you’re trying to read, or more often, my laptop keyboard as I am trying to type. Pippin (black and white) is adventurous and sneaky. Her daily activities include knocking my glasses off of my night stand every single morning, leaping across the living room furniture, getting lost in paper or canvas grocery bags, and chewing on shoelaces and sweatshirt strings.
I know it’s pretty cliche and sounds like something out of ‘Marley and Me’ or ‘Homeward Bound’ but I give them daily credit for making me laugh, showing me love, and providing some cuddly company.