Flora

a k a "not Florida"

The other day, everything outside was coated in an icy glaze, like so many doughnuts

except not filled with jelly

or covered with sprinkles

or made of chocolatey cakeyness and delight

this one looks like hands!

(It's slightly different. Trust me.)

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Fauna

Ottalons

Fangthom!

"SANCTUARY!"

KuronekoSalem

I don't know how I ever leave the house

SunBlissed

KittyVision2007

KittyVised2007

Ice Ice Baby

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well look who I found!

Sunny weekend pileup

Spelunkitty

All grey cats are cave-hunters

... while the black-and-white dominant male quests for waterfalls

"Tell Maya all about the beads"

I think they've started staying up late at night believing the squirrel will be around then.
(What do I know; maybe he is)

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quick tide-you-over

"And I am nothing of a builder
But here I dreamt I was an architect ..."

Susan + bargains = best presents ever

"Did you hide the broom?"
"Yeah, right where we said."
"And the ice?"
"Oh do not START with me again."

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I will lie low and wait for the unsuspecting, hopefully bespangled passer-by

I SMELL MONKEYS
Don't tell me I don't.

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Black and White

"FLY!!" (on the wall, not a Peter Pan thing)

Rogue slowwwly amasses her Yuletide Army.

Diamonds! Diamonds for ALL! (If by "all" you mean "me")

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Sun + cats = adorabulalityness

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The Bearable Lightness of the Backyard

Just some weird light last November/December.

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Maggie Moo

2000 was a fairly tumultuous year for me, and it could well be described as the Year of the Cat. I lost Chewie to feline leukemia. My parents brought home Sylvester from the SPCA. I found a stray, pregnant adolescent cat who adopted me and proceeded to have four kittens (see most of my other entries). And Megan, my roommate at the time, brought home Maggie.

Our friend Dana had found a small, black-and-white cat hanging around outside her condo, and knew by her lack of claws that she had been an indoor cat. Dana took her in and set to finding a home for the little thing. She didn't have to go far; Megan fell in kitty love. In fact, I just remembered, I actually went to pick her up from Dana's once Megan decided to take her in, since Megan couldn't that night (Adam's birthday? It was a Wednesday in mid-July; I want to say the 19th. Anyway...). She was indeed absolutely adorable, that small, long-haired type of cat who almost looks chubby but isn't. Shortly thereafter Megan gave her her Simpsons-inspired name.

Emma, Megan's little white cat, wasn't too amused. But she adapted.

When I got up on weekend mornings, Maggie would come out (or scratch at the door) to see me, and I'd plop an ice cube in her water bowl, which she just loved. Not too long after that, Megan moved in with Adam and I got my own apartment, so we only spent about 3 months together, but you knew right away how special Maggie was. Loving and with the kind of eyes that bespeak intelligence and emotion; easy to pick up and snuggle. The definition of adorable.

Last week Maggie died very suddenly, at home with the people she loved.

Sweet little black-and-white kitty, you pitter-patted through our lives for such a short time, but such a wonderful time. For my part, thank you for coming my way six years ago. You helped me through a tough time, and I'm only sorry I never let you into my room of mystery and fun.

Happy trails through your next world, little one. And if you see Chewie (you know his scent for sure), give him a good head butt for me.

"We love you, Maggie, and we miss you," says Megan. "I hope you found Grandma Faye and Great-Grandma Florence. They'll give you lots of treats, and comfy laps to sit on."

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Sweetest girl.

This is Mercy, and I adore her. I go into Ithaca Grain and Pet Supply just to see her. They discovered recently that she has cancer in her jawbone, which can be pretty painful. She has still been acting really good, though, eating, visiting customers, talking, purring.

I saw her last Thursday, and went back in today just to see her. I couldn't find her, and worried a little, but she was still so good Thursday. When I had the chance to ask the woman working, though, she told me the sad news. "She passed Friday night," Sarah said.

Mercy was 18 and just a wonderful, sweet, quietly friendly cat. I am so glad and so lucky to have known her. As my friend Tom said when Chewie died, slightly amended here, "Thanks for sharing your life with me, little girl. I'll miss you."

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