I have been remiss since beginning this blog in formally introducing my feline family.
First, there was Lucius, in the year 2000. His neurotic behavior will be chronicled in many, many postings. That’s a guarantee.
Next came Lydia, whom we adopted as a girlfriend for Lucius.
Then a very young cat, Lillie, who was barely old enough to be a mother, had her first litter of three cats—T.J., Perkins, and Miss Tommie—underneath our old house in one of Houston’s few historic districts. Now I know why architects in the last century opted for building pier-and-beam houses. They were feline lovers, wanting to give cats secretive places for giving birth to kitties. Lillie had another two cats, Leo and Acorn. Sadly, we lost Acorn to a rare feline disease shortly after his first birthday. Happily, his brother is now approaching nine years old.
Linus graced our presence next, followed by L.B. Our last rescue, in terms of adding a cat to our own household, was of Alvar, in 2004. But rest assured: The cause endures. There is always a cat on the horizon who needs a permanent home, and there is always a loving person who will rise to the occasion.
Nobody can stop this Cat Lady from matchmaking!
Query of the Day: Where do your cats come from?