(never!), Kathy was allowed to visit at any time and should I not be able to keep them, I should return them to her (as if, having seen them, I could ever give them up!).
We drove home that raw cold day and my life was changed forever. I had forgotten kittens. My dear Toby was 14 when he died and it had been a long time since he was a kitten. It was absolutely delightful. They were sooo tiny. Bridget was 3 pounds, Conor was four. They ran the Indianapolis 500, they were players in the World Wrestling Federation, they stalked each other in my silk plants. I had, at the time, a silk ficus in my foyer. Bridget's favorite game was to climb to the top, have it fall over and play Rambo with Conor. It rarely stayed upright more than 15 minutes at a time. Of course they slept with me, and did wonders for my blood pressure when I came home from work, as they still do, although Rambo is not as much an option anymore, and needless to say it was awhile before I had a Christmas tree again!
Conor has been the welcomer in the house since that day. Bridget, as befits her gender, is more wary. She is civil, but not overly social. Conor is the one into mischief, Bridget observes and remonstrates. Conor has one rather odd habit...he likes to chew worn socks...he's quite tidy about it though. He brings them down from the bedroom and chews them in his dish. Bridget has a sweet tooth, she likes to lick the sugar from my tea mug, after I've finished. Her whole head fits in the mug and it's quite delightful to see, although I do limit her treats. Conor has been amazingly healthy. Bridget chewed on something she shouldn't have when she was small and was required to have surgery for the obstruction that resulted. She was in hospital for a week and has hated the vet ever since. She was required to take medication afterwards. I had to go away for work (they don't consider cats as a basis for family leave....is that fair?) and their Uncle Bill had to give it to her while I was away. She has yet to forgive him and is extrememly suspicious of most males who come to visit. She's not quite sure whether they have pills or not. And she plays tricks on Uncle Bill when I'm away. One incident in particular comes to mind....I'm sure this is a familiar one to most of you cat folks. He had come to feed and stay with them awhile. When he decided to leave, he couldn't find her. He looked absolutely everywhere except....
Well, Bill has dogs, he doesn't look up...when he finally did, he saw two tiny brown ears poking above the ridge on the kitchen cabinets. He swears she was up there the whole time laughing at him....I'll be she was,too.
Since that day in December, we three have been inseparable. They have been my constant companions and have given me love beyond measure. And I, for my part, have loved and adored and spoiled them .
We have our routines. Conor is the keeper of the food dishes. If there is clearly not enough there, I am told. Bridget is the litter box guardian. I'm told clearly enough about that as well. And then there's bedtime. Every night about 10pm, Bridget comes to the top of the stairs and lets me know it's bedtime. So I go up and lie partially sitting. Conor's 14 pounds are snuggled into my shoulder, his leg across my chest, touching both Bridget and I.. Bridget lays on my chest, over my heart. And both are in my heart, and will be always.
