How strange and wonderful and full of surprises life is. For instance, just last week I was an ordinary petless PWD on shots. And look at me now: I’m a Pumper with a Cat!
Meet Mystique, the one-year-old female calico who joined our family just a few days ago. She’s confident and playful, outgoing yet calm, patient with grabby little hands while always on the lookout for a twitching shoelace to attack. She’s a cuddly lap cat and a sputtery plaything for the kiddos all in one. And I, Mother of the House, am now saddled with her for at least the next 10 years. (Stratch yet another item off the list of things I swore I’d never do; I’m starting to revere the old axiom “never say never.”) Good thing I like her so much.
Truth be told, we almost had the girls convinced that a bunny would be fun — the kind that stays in its cage most of the time and never claws at your elegant microfiber sofas. But the “bunnies” at the SPCA were oversized, immobile beasts that Mom could not imagine cleaning up after (think Were-Rabbit). And then we saw Mystique and fell in love. All of us.
So now it’s her and me. She and I. Curious and busy. Hangin’ out in my home-based office all day. She loves my lap… doesn’t mind my jerky movements when the phone rings, or the incessant clacking of the keyboard. I’m just darn glad I waited for the tube-free OmniPod, so Ms. Kitty doesn’t direct her playfulness to my insulin source. Funny how these things work out.