As you may recall almost two years ago I lost the most dedicated and affectionate companion I had yet known with the passing of my sweet Cinta. To those who will think lightly of how deeply connected to my cat I was and have not encountered this kind of connection with an animal, I cannot and will not try to justify this. It was, through her, that I learned how to open myself up and show affection towards another living person on a conscious level.
When Cinta passed I wished so irrationally for more time with her. I wished I could have more time with everyone else around me while I tried to work out how to fill that hole. I have not lost anyone that close to me that I could truly appreciate how deep loss can be felt. I knew one day I would there would be another, but I could not face that at the time. I also knew that I would need to have someone or something to focus my love and affections on so that my shadowy passenger, my depression, didn’t take over my heart once more.
I met some kittens in the late autumn of 2013, May to be exact. some boys and some girls. Eventually a mischievous little white and grey thing started to outright ignore me in a way that indicated she was nothing like Cinta and that we would get along splendidly. She disdained cuddles unless she was demanding them and reveled in using humans as scratching posts. Her intrigue for running water and wooden golf tees plus her insistence on sleeping under the covers soon saw her moving in. We got on swimmingly.
Polly pocket. Polly unsaturated. Roly Poly. Polly Put the Kettle on. Polly Want a Cracker.
Yes I have heard them all. We have taught her to play fetch, have showers and purr whenever she is picked up. She talks to us, sings (yep!) and still sleeps in the covers. This is the girl that now lives with me and it is her first birthday.