Once upon a time, there was a one-eyed tortoiseshell kitten in the adoption cages at a local PetCo. Upon seeing our heroine (that’s totally me, you guys), the kitten flung herself at the plexi-glass, back arched, rubbing her face as if she could actually feel the girl’s fingers skritching her cheeks. This one-eyed kitty was later adopted out, but she sat in the hallway and cried. This was not the home she longed for. Months later, our heroine (still me) saw this one-eyed kitty back in her cage. Our heroine wept, sad for this now gangly and adolescent feline, knowing that the older the kitty grew, the less easy it would be to place her. Fortunately, the heroine had a bold and handsome swain with a heart as kind as it was generous, who adopted the gangly kitten for our heroine’s birthday. They all lived happily, and adorably, ever after.
And that, in a very tiny nutshell, is how Esme* came to be our girl. I wanted to tell her story in pictures, but almost every shot I have has been taken while she’s sleeping. An energetic one, our Princess Adorable.
She’s impeccable. Every morning, she waits while I shower so that I can give her a proper brushing once I’m done. If I take too long, she’ll pull the curtain back with her paw and poke her head around.
She’s expressive. From our last vet visit:
She makes her own happiness.
She knows she is loved. Also: the value of a snuggly nest by the wood stove.
She is my sunshine and rainbows girl. She’s one of the truly special ones, my Esme.
*named after the thoroughly excellent and amazing Esmerelda (Granny) Weatherwax