Poor Buddy and Zizzy.
The other morning, before I left for work, I was positive there were no cats on the porch when I shut the door and locked it.
I went to work and went about my day.
At lunch time, I was out running an errand in my coworker's car when I started singing the silly song I sing to Zizzy sometimes (It's terribly embarrassing. Only Ken and the cats have heard it.)
Then my mind drifted and I started thinking about how they would handle it if they were ever without the other because they have never been separated.
I sent that thought on its way, wondering where it had come from, why something so sad would just float through my head like that.
I thought maybe I was just emotionally preparing myself for the day that is still pretty fresh in my mind from last sweet cat.
Imagine My Surprise...
My last cat, Ms. Kitty, was a rescue cat.
She had been abused, was malnourished, but also one of the smartest, most gracious cats I have ever met.
After saying goodbye to her, I knew our next cats would be spoiled rotten and never want for anything.
We purposefully got a pair (a duo) of kittens so they'd never be alone.
So, imagine my surprise, when I finally arrived home to discover a perturbed Ken, advising me to check the porch more carefully before I left in the mornings.
Buddy had been stuck out on the porch, from 7 AM until 4:30 PM.
Not only did I not come home at my usual time, Ken, who assumed I was home, took his shower and smoked a cigarette after he got home, all the while, wondering why Zizzy wouldn't quit following him.
Once she lured him to the porch door, everything became much clearer.
A VERY relieved Buddy rushed into the house when Ken opened the door.
I Got To Thinking...
I'm sure those of you who have cats, or any pet, can understand this.
You get these cute, little, precious, fluffy, tiny things that are totally dependent on you, even though Mother Nature has designed them to fend for themselves, as well.
You feed them, love them and clean up after them.
You create an environment where they can grow their bodies and their brains.
For the longest time they are simply little bellies with legs, running around your house.
Time moves on.
They hit that awkward phase where their ears are bigger than their heads.
Always getting into mischief.
They're lucky they're so cute or it wouldn't be a very pretty situation.
Zizzy pooed in all of my house plants, even after I put pepper in them.
Buddy clawed the heck out of a corner of the carpet, even after I put pepper on it.
I had no more houseplants, a bare patch of carpet and two kittens who walked around the house, constantly sneezing.
Finally, the day comes when they have some size to them and you can give them a full, big hug.
They aren't full grown, but they sure did get here fast.
A Growing Experience...
Buddy and Zizzy are now full grown, six years old and love hanging out with me while I work.
We enjoy spoiling them and pampering them.
We find joy in seeing the "world's most comfortable cats", when we return home from the nuttiness of the world.
As I sat, reassuring Zizzy that everything was OK, I realized that even though they were no longer physically growing, my cats had been through a huge growing experience that day.
It occurred to me that, thanks to all our spoiling, this was the first time in their lives they had been separated.
I knew they were safe, I knew they were well, but sweet, soft Zizzy and brave, (currently) hiding Buddy, were still in the process of figuring that out.
Becoming completely different than they were a week ago.
Something we can all relate to.