I haven't been here for awhile. The winter got me down. The spring wasn't much better.
Being a cyborg and being able to hear again helped me through it--that, and my family, who've cheered me along every step of the way. I spent a lot of time reading other people's books. A lot of non-fiction, but a lot of fiction too. I'll be reviewing some of the fiction here soon.
April was the cruelest month. My good Macavity was fourteen years old when I had to say goodbye. It's taken me this long to be able to write about him. I called him my little buddy, kind of as a joke, because there is nothing little about a thirteen pound cat. He was there to see me off to work every morning and there waiting for me to come through the door every evening. We had our evening rituals where he would sleep beside me as I wrote and then sleep some more beside me while I read before bed.
I've never had a cat quite like him, and I never will again.
I'm not sure who grieved his passing more, me or our dog Dimie. Her whole world revolved around Macavity, and while they never slept side-by-side, they were never far apart.
After a week of me and the dog moping about, I checked the Rockingham County Animal Shelter's adoption site. I didn't see a single cat that seemed to be right. I wanted a young cat, because I wanted to be sure s/he would get along with Dimie. That was the only condition.
On a fluke, I decided to check one Friday before I left for work and there was Emerson. At ten months old, I figured she was might have a good chance of fitting in with an old boxer that loves cats. Emerson appeared to be a Maine Coon mix like Macavity, and I loved the fact that someone had named a female cat Emerson.
I stopped by the Shelter, but Emerson had already been taken to PetSense, where she would be at PetSense's Adoption Day. I had an appointment that afternoon, and decided that if Emerson was still there Saturday morning, I'd see if she and I fit together.
My daughter went with me, and Emerson and I got along just fine. The good folks at PetSense took the papers off her crate while I went home and got things ready for her. The big test was how Emerson might act around Dimie, but we needn't have worried. She stiffened up a bit when Dimie got close, but otherwise, she didn't seem to mind the dog.
Dimie, on the other hand, absolutely lost her mind when she realized a new kitty had come to live in her house.
Now here we are, settling in a new addition to the household once more. Emerson is young and energetic, but she's got oodles of toys and a big house where she can run about all day. Every morning, she bounces across the bed like a squirrel to wake us up so she can have her breakfast.
I don't have many pictures of her yet, because she doesn't stay still for long.
Unlike Macavity, who was so huge, Emerson was five and a half pounds when she came to us. A couple of weeks later at her first vet visit, she came in at about six and a half. So she's a teeny thing, and while she'll grow a bit more over the next year or two, she won't be Macavity-sized by any means.
She is black from the tip of her nose to the tip of her tail and has great gold eyes. Her only distinguishing mark is her outsized personality. My husband thinks that a cat named Emerson belongs in a writer's house and I tend to agree.
Thus ends the story of the long hard winter and the cruel spring. It's almost summer, the world has moved on, and so have we.
Exciting things are happening in the background, and I'll announce them when I can. Meanwhile, stay tuned ... I hope to be around more this summer with reviews and new posts and maybe a picture or two of Emerson, the Writerly Cat.