We keep Christmas all the way through Christmastide until Epiphany around here. I suspect I’ll post our menu for Twelfth Night (January 5th) and I will be very sad when our tree comes down on the 7th.

In the meantime, we’re still enjoying the Season – warm fires and our grandmother’s teeny-tiny, brass candlesticks (filled with red candles, rather than my customary blue or white) on the mantle. I like the mood of this picture, but it kind of cracks me up, too – maybe it’s the little Korean horse’s snout on the bottom right – or maybe it’s the fact that Spectre’s stocking is bigger than anyone else’s.

I know there are people out there who don’t like cats. I’m related to some of them.

But look at this little one, here:

How can you not love that face?

All I know is, we do.

Where do you sleep when it is -1.5 degrees Celsius in your German village, the snow is falling outside and you are a senior citizen…oh, and you’re a cat?

Why, in your heated bed bought for you by your adoring mistress, that’s where.

“… walks besides you on crisp autumn days when frost is on the fields and winter’s drawing near. His head is within [your] hand in his old way.”

~ Mary Carolyn Davies

John caught our younger cat, Quatre, sitting in the pass-through window to Skye’s nursery.

Blue eyes just seem to be a thing around here, lately.

Everybody should be so lucky once in a while to sleep late, plan a day with their Beloved over strong coffee, and be visited by a “Lapradog.” 

This old girl and I have lived together for nearly 16 years. Its nearly 1:00 in the morning (I’m waiting on my chili to finish cooking…

and…

before you ask…

I’m making chili to enter it in the SOCCENT Wives’ Chili Cookoff tomorrow at the unit.)

So, anyhow…if Dosie wants to eat her supper with her paw, who am I to say anything?

How do you know when it’s time?

I’m not sure. For me, it was a gentle pull about two months after Deadeye died…and one day, a constant nagging to check out our Tampa Bay Shelter site.

So one day, I did.

There was a small, 3 and 1/2 month old Lilac Lynx Point Siamese named “Suki” in the slammer, there.  I was drawn to her picture.

Mom and I went to see her on a Saturday.

By Sunday, and a second visit to ensure she had, indeed, picked me, she had a new home…

…and a new name!

Her name is Quatre, which, for those of you who do not speak French, is the French word for “Four” – and since she is my fourth cat (Dosie, our other cat, was Number “Two” – hence “Dos” – the Spanish word for Two…and by the way, “Tres-ie” was killed in an unfortunate circumstance in Korea…) Anyway, it seemed appropriate.

And, for those of you who do speak French, you know that there is sort of a double entendre at work – because, you see - Quatre is pronounced “Cat”.

I love it.

So She is Here.

It’s so funny, though. I haven’t had a kitten in 15 years. She’s active, and lithe, and very curious. I’ve had to buy toys and suppress laughter when she climbs the curtains and gets into the sink.

She’s cuddly, and lovely, and beautiful and very welcome.

But there is still the Queen Bee: my 15-year-old Grande Dame, Miss Dosie.

She reigns.

Look what I found tonight in the old tree we refused to cut down! (Yet more proof that you should always trust your Little Voice, y’all.) I saw him peeking out at us when Spectre and I came back from our walk tonight. I think this little new resident is an Eastern Screech Owl. If you know better, let me know!

I called the Extension Service, and they told me I’d be surprised how well these owls do in the suburban landscape. As long as I have a birdfeeder (where rodents feed under cover of night…Yick) and some “rough areas” in my lawn – i.e. bushes and heavy growth, my tiny tree-dweller will have plenty to eat.

He’s another reason to keep my bird bath clean, too.

I love having a little raptor in our treasured old tree! I consider him good luck while my John has to be gone.