Lindy-Lu, our beloved black and white kitty, just turned ten. We adopted her seven years ago from our local Humane Society as a birthday gift for my oldest son. She’s been a gift to us all.
Our family looked at every single cat available for adoption that day, but in the end she chose us. She reached between the bars with her paw and patted my son.
Lindy is good-natured and outgoing and unlike most cats, she comes when called. She’s too big for our laps, preferring instead to lay across the back of the couch, nestling near our hair. The moment I head outside, she is by my side, following me from place to place.
Mighty-Mouse, the neighbor’s kitty comes calling and wants to play. She’s receptive on occasion, but for the most part views him as an annoying little brother. At 16 pounds she could take him, but she prefers to give him a warning growl. Sometimes he actually takes the hint.
As I go about my gardening chores, she settles into the grass or between a couple of nearby shrubs. I often think she’s keeping an eye on me, offering her quiet companionship as she tucks in her paws and gives me the blink of acceptance. The garden wouldn’t be the same without her.