Month for Loki: Seventeenth
For the longest time, I’ve had three cats.
But one Saturday afternoon, about two months ago, while I was walking to our mailbox, I heard a strange sound. It was a rasping almost squeaking sound that I don’t think I had ever heard before, and it seemed to be coming from the line of overgrown bushes that separates our yard from my neighbor’s yard.
At first, I’d thought it was a possum, or perhaps, a baby squirrel.
Turns out, it was a tiny kitten, meowing piteously.
Perhaps it had been meowing so long, its throat had gone hoarse. It appeared to be only a few weeks old, at most.
So, figuring it was hungry and possibly sick, I took it in, and even though it was the weekend, we brought it to an emergency vet.
It was too young for shots. It was barely old enough for solid food. This little ginger boy.
But we adopted him, and named him Butterscotch.
(I wasn’t about to send it to a shelter to be euthanized, which is what happens in our area (central Florida), because we have so many transitional folks who only live here part of the year anyway.)
So that’s how we came to have four cats, which honestly feels like too many some days, but we love him.
Cos here’s the thing: I have had kittens in my house before.
I’ve had cats that had to be taught to stay off the counters, to stop bothering the dog, or to sleep at reasonable hours.
(I even have an older ginger cat who still is pretty demanding for food and attention.)
But I have NEVER had a cat that is as active or as crazy as this cat is.
He acts like my shadow, and he is most unfortunately very curious as he literally gets into everything.
I had to coax him out of trying to climb into the oven recently, and he routinely tries to ‘catch’ the needle while I am using my sewing machine.
Yeah, he is that kind of crazy. and it would seem that nothing is ever truly out of his reach, whether or not anyone is there to witness his shenanigans.
So to make a long story short, I’ve never had a cat like Butterscotch.
And related to all this, is the fact that for the first time ever, I have a cat who likes to climb up on my altars.
I caught him this morning, sitting quietly on my Loki altar, trying to knock the various items out of the offering bowl.
And just as I was about to get up and pull him off the altar, he looked up as if distracted, and turned his head toward the Loki artwork.
He seemed to be looking at it for a few moments before gently batting at it too.
(Unfortunately, I was nowhere near my phone, otherwise I would have taken a photo of him.)
But all I can think of is this:
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