I got a kitten for my birthday. The birthday itself was at the end of November, but we didn't connect with the right kitty until mid-December. Our sweet cat Eponine passed away a little over a year and a half ago, and for a long time it seemed good to just have the other two. But I started to feel like it might be a good thing to have a third cat again - partly because I'd gotten used to having three, and partly because I wanted my children to have a pet that they felt belonged as much to them as to me. It also seemed like a kitten might cheer us all up after some autumn disappointments, and so we got one.
Now we all share my birthday present, and that is a good thing. He is a sweet, playful little boy who we call Teddy, his full name being Theodore Laurence, after one of our favorite boy characters in literature. We also considered Gilbert Blythe, but we determined that he looked more like a Teddy. He's a bit of a rascal, which is delightful after some years of two cats whose main hobbies include napping and also napping. He allows E to pick him up, even though he really doesn't like it, and he willingly climbs into Z's lap when she is reading. He runs and jumps and makes toys out of everything. He likes food of all sorts, including cookies. Nothing is safe when left alone with Teddy, and this so far has been a delight rather than a burden. Who knew that a cat would like toast? Not us. But we are ever so glad to have one that does.
Welcome, Teddy, to our family, to this crazy life. Thanks for being a soft, purring presence when the world seems a little off balance. We are all grateful to have you and hope you will be with us for many, many years.
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