Lovely Lucy from November 2, 2006, just past six months old. Remember that she is one of Mimi’s daughters from an earlier litter, a half-sibling to the Fantastic Four. Who do you think she looks like?
I store my photos in folders, one for each day, and include a few keywords with the date so I know what’s in there. I began this system in 2005 and haven’t always been persistent, but enough that I can find images, or at least a general time period where they should appear. Every few days I check the archives for what was happening around the current date in previous years for the The Creative Cat and Today and for other things I’m working on, and sometimes just because.
The only photos I took on November 2, 2006 were seven digitals of Lucy, sitting next to me on my desk, letting me know how mind-numbingly dull I was as a playmate for a kitten. At the time, the next-youngest cat in the house was Kelly, who was 12; Namir, Cookie, Sophie, Peaches and Stanley raged from 14 to 24, and while Namir played with Lucy pretty regularly, most of them slept a little more than she did. So she was on her own to explore quite a bit, and often came to be with me. I had just begun to realize in the month prior to this that she probably was not going to be adopted and, twist my arm, I might as well get accustomed to her quietly melodramatic personality, and her devotion to me. I was smitten immediately.
In the background you can see the results of her recent efforts, the single candoliers and fan knocked about on the windowsill, papers strewn, stuff that got piled in the middle of the table instead of being on the floor. This is where the Fantastic Four wrestle now, but in that day my drafting table was there, and next to it my painting easel, and I kept a much neater desk, except for a whirlwind of a black kitten.
Perhaps it’s that time of the year, All Hallow’s Eve, Samhain, la Dia de los Muertos, but I’ve been thinking of Lucy as I look at her five relatives; then she turns up in a folder of photos on November 2, when she was still just a silly kitten, no sign of FIP or any other thought of mortality. I think of her frequently when I look at them and wonder what she’d look like today. But she will always be my amber-eyed kitten, and in the closeup of her face, above, I see a bit of each of the five black cats who live with me now. I know there is a part of her in each of them. Read a poem I wrote about her.
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