So. Right. About the cat.
Since I don’t have any fantastic knitting or spinning to tell you about, I’ll give you the long version—-if you’re here just for the fiber fables, I won’t be offended if you skip down to New Word Wednesday, go ahead.
About 15 years ago, my husband, who grew up in a home without pets and only tolerated the dog, volunteered to keep a colleagues cat while they moved, and then put said kitty on a plane (to of all places Colorado; we were in Ohio at that time). We had never had a cat, weren’t overly fond on cats—the way they get on everything, leave hair wherever they go and are so aloof. For three weeks Shadow lived with us, got along with the dog and, well, I got rather attached to him. While Brad was at the airport, sending Shadow to his family, I was at the pound. I brought home another black cat we called Mocha. Mocha was great, except for the way she would attack me as I walked to the bathroom in the night. Not cool. So Mocha went back to the pound and we brought home a giant cat we called Mo (cuz we got mo cat fo da money). Mo was big and lazy and couldn’t seem to find the litter box. So. Not. Cool. Back went Mo. After that we got another black kitty, we called him Licorice, and for quite a while he lived with us. He was the indoor/outdoor kind of cat, he loved to hang out with Sunshine from across the street. Together they would hunt birds and rabbits and such. Sunny would come over a meow at the door for Licorice to come out and play…..I’d never seen such a thing. Once, he was gone for days, and we really were getting worried. We were at the pound looking for him when a fella came up and started telling a story about a cat that was caught in his tree, and had been there for days. At the base of the tree was a kennel with a couple big dogs, the poor cat was scared to death. It was our Licorice. Once out of the tree, he stuck pretty close to home, but soon wanderlust got to him and he ventured out. After redeeming him from the pound a couple times, we decided he had to stay in…the next fine would be $100. Needless to say, Licorice did not like this one bit, and demonstrated his feelings by adding a pungent odor to our newly finished basement. Hubby said he had to go. The kids (and I) were heartbroken, but agreed as long as we could get another kitty, a female, to which he agreed.
At the pound we held every kitten in the room, knowing by now that each critter has it’s own personality. We had decided to get two, to keep each other company, and after quite a while settled on a orange shorthair and her orange and white littermate. We told the attendant what we wanted and the kittens were checked out; the orange one could be adopted but the other had a fever and could not go home with us that day. After a bit of pouting, we decided to take just the one. On the way home, we decided to call her Peaches, and we had her for almost 10 years. She came with us to Colorado, and we would have her still, but the last move was suppose to be to England (another long, long story) and I gave her to a cat loving colleague for safekeeping.
We have now been without a cat for 3 and a half years. We have new furniture. We still have two dogs. We don’t need a kitty.
Yesterday morning, early, the phone rang and it was dear hubby.
“I just did something unselfish, but it will require you to be unselfish too.”
Crap, thinks I. I kinda like bein’ selfish these days.
“What did you do??” I say.
And he tells me this story about our longtime friend’s son, who is very attached to his cat, who can’t keep him right now (he’s about to enter a year long discipleship program at their church and will be living with a host family) and the rest of the family is moving to DC, and, well, he volunteered to keep the cat, until Ben can reclaim him.
And so, our household has a new member, however temporary. His name is Zorro. For the time being he is in the basement—I thought it would be best to give him a few days to get used to his new world before an official ‘meet and greet’ with his furry room mates. I did take the camera downstairs so you could see what the guy looks like, but he is hiding. Didn’t even hear him. Perhaps later.
New Word Wednesday: today’s word is lucuna which is noun that means 1: a blank space or missing part: gap 2: a small cavity, pit, or discontinuity in an anatomical structure.
Here’s what Webster says about lacuna:
Exploring the etymology of “lacuna” involves taking a backward leap into lacus, the Latin word for “lake.” Latin-speakers modified lacus into lacuna and used that noun to mean “pit,” “cleft,” or “pool.”
English-speakers borrowed the term in the 17th century. Another English
descendant of lacuna, is “lagoon,” a word for a shallow body of water,
which came to us by way of Italian and French.
Who can come up with fiber/knitting related sentence using this word???