One of my biggest joys in life has always been the furry companionship this planet can offer in many shapes and forms. (And no, I don't mean Robin Williams.)
I'll start with the most recent and longstanding furry friends in my life--my kitties. Brace yourselves because I have five.
Sabrina is my eldest cat. I've had her appoximately eight years now. Of all my cats, she is the proudest. From day one, she'd be the one who might walk into a room and go for that one impossible leap from across the room to the top of the bureau.
Of course she never actually made it, but it was fun to watch her slide down the side of that bureau and then pick herself up and walk out with her head held high and her tail upright--you know, because she meant to do that, of course.
This is just one of Sabrina's more distinctive qualities. Another example of this cat's vanity: When I moved to Narragansett, I left my cats behind temporarily. Sabrina went through a great depression without me around and gained quite a bit of weight. Okay, she no longer had a face or legs, but that's besides the point.
Well, being a guy I, of course, felt compelled to inform Sabrina she was getting fat as soon as I saw her for the first time in a month. Wouldn't you know she lost all the extra weight by the time I saw her again two weeks later?
Poor thing became the Oprah of cats. She went through several cycles of obesity and normal before finally settling on the healthier normal.
I know it's wrong to pick favorites, but Sabrina would undoubtedly be mine. I've had this cat longer than any of my friends--aside from Tammy, of course.
Throughout the years and throughout adolescence, Sabrina was the one putting the most effort into my sanity. It's like she could sense whenever I was feeling down. If I was upset, she'd come running from anywhere in the house and then just sit there on my chest starting right into my eyes until I started feeling better. If I cried, she licked the tears and cried with me.
Sabrina is also my sleeping buddy. Almost every night for the last eight years has yielded the same ritual. Sabrina hears me go to sleep and comes a running to the bed. If I don't let her under the covers she'll just stand on my back and purr in my ear until I acknowledge her existence. Once I let her under the covers, she passes out for about half an hour until she decides she's done being cuddly and then claws her way out. Then I go to sleep. The funny thing is the fact I really can't fall asleep without this daily ritual.
Sabrina is also the most protective of my cats. If someone is bad for me, she will not let them touch her at all. She makes it a point to ignore them altogether. If it's someone who has a good impact on my life, she warms up immediately. And if it's someone I'm, um . . . relating to--Let's just say she'll try anything and everything to stay the focus of attention.
There was a time when I also wondered if Sabrina was, in fact, my muse. When I was writing my first book in Narragansett, she had this habit of laying at my feet the entire time I worked on Janie. My roommates found the biggest kick out of it. Lora put it best when she used to be the voice of Sabrina, "Hmm, maybe if I stare at you from over here. . . ."
Anyway, click below to get to my next puss. (If only it were that simple in real life. . . .)
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Update on Sabrina. . . .
A verse for my little angel. . . .
