It’s hard to believe that I haven’t posted anything on the blog since March 25—four months! Not long after my last post, my beloved mom, Barbara Hudson, became ill. She passed away on May 6, 2008.I’ve done a tremendous amount of writing during these four months—an obituary, a eulogy, letters to creditors, journal entries—but the blog fell by the wayside. So to get reacquainted, let me introduce you to Baby Cat, the handsome fellow looking right at you. He was Mom's kitty, her faithful companion, and now he lives with me.
Some of the last things Mom asked about were her sister and her kitty. I promised her I’d call Aunt Aleta and take care of Baby Cat. Mom was a writer, and so Baby Cat and I had already bonded while I was trying to get e-mail addresses off Mom's computer. (Well, and there was that whole food thing--Baby doesn't like to miss meals.) Unlike my other cat, Gray, Baby Cat is laid back, a snuggler who likes to lick (and once in a while gets a little carried away and bites). When I set him up in my office, with a little hidey hole under an old desk in the closet (lined with a rug from Mom’s place), he happily settled in. He’s asleep there right now.
At first I nicknamed him Buddha Boy, but am considering changing his alias to Ninja Cat. I was worried about the guy—I mean, he had lived with my Mom for years and enjoyed being the only pet, a deeply loved pet who got as much attention as he wanted. I have two large, frequently ill-mannered dogs and one mostly behaved cat (Gray, who was almost feral when we took him in, and who had to be banished from my office because he lays on my work and blocks the computer screen). I was concerned that the shy little Baby who loved to come out and lay in his other bed (did I mention I made him two beds?) while I was working would have a hard time with the other animals, the child, the husband, and all our visitors. Most of all, I was concerned that Gray, Mr. Bossy, would hurt Baby. Then one morning I witnessed Baby kick Gray off the sofa—whapping him upside his bossy face with both a back and a front paw without even getting up from a reclining position. Ah, Ninja Cat, you sneaky fellow. I worry no more.
At first I nicknamed him Buddha Boy, but am considering changing his alias to Ninja Cat. I was worried about the guy—I mean, he had lived with my Mom for years and enjoyed being the only pet, a deeply loved pet who got as much attention as he wanted. I have two large, frequently ill-mannered dogs and one mostly behaved cat (Gray, who was almost feral when we took him in, and who had to be banished from my office because he lays on my work and blocks the computer screen). I was concerned that the shy little Baby who loved to come out and lay in his other bed (did I mention I made him two beds?) while I was working would have a hard time with the other animals, the child, the husband, and all our visitors. Most of all, I was concerned that Gray, Mr. Bossy, would hurt Baby. Then one morning I witnessed Baby kick Gray off the sofa—whapping him upside his bossy face with both a back and a front paw without even getting up from a reclining position. Ah, Ninja Cat, you sneaky fellow. I worry no more.
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Note: For those of you who would like to read more about my mom, please read my entry, "A Long Road" on my Vegas Girl blog.
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