Violet, our kitty, has been with me for nearly 16 years. I adopted her from the Oakland SPCA back in 2000, shortly after I finished college and moved northward to begin post-graduation life. She was my roommate before Adam and I got married, and we enjoyed many an evening in my Livermore apartment watching TV. (Well, I watched TV. She luxuriated in my lap and purred as I rubbed her behind the ears.) Later, she became Adam's special buddy and she learned to be cautious of the often-unpredictable children we kept bringing home with us from the hospital every few years. I'm not sure how old she actually is --though my guess is in the neighborhood of 18 or 19 years-- but she's elderly, and recent times have seen her moving more gingerly and sleeping more often. I finally told the kids today that I'm not sure she has much more time with us.
After digesting my words, Isaac disappeared for a few minutes and reappeared with a small handful of cat treats, which he let her eat from the palm of his hand. Shortly thereafter, she climbed into Logan's chair --which made me catch my breath, because she almost never sits in that chair and the visual of her resting in his "arms" was almost too much for me to take in-- and Isaac stretched out on the carpet and just looked at her for a long while. My sweet boy was keeping watch over his furry friend.
It's a gift to see that kind of compassion and genuine care expressed by my children.
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