My “old man”, Stanley, at the age of about 24, enjoying the warm bricks and sun in the garden on April 30, 2006.
Spending more and more time in my garden in spring, and especially yesterday, a bright and warm day much like the one you see here and my garden pretty much the same as well, I’ve been remembering the parade of my garden sprites. I love my garden nearly as much as I love my cats, and putting the two together made the whole experience a joy for me.
Stanley is supervising my planting of tomatoes while much of the garden is still filled with clumps of forget-me-nots between the beds and around the edges, his nose to the spring breeze. He was with me for 21 years, passing in January 2007. He was not at all a juvenile when he came to me so he was at least three years old, likely a little older. In his last year he was still vital though relatively thin, and I gave him occasional therapeutic doses of subcutaneous fluids for his chronic renal failure, but he had no problems walking or getting around. His eyes were cloudy with cataracts and his hearing wasn’t the best, but his sense of smell was unparalleled as he had made his way around the yard downloading his pee-mail, then decided to settle on the bricks, warm from a long sunny afternoon, to doze and watch me. His best buddy Moses had passed earlier that year, in February, and I know his backyard sojourns were never as enjoyable as when quiet gray Moses was there to share them with him. I know my place, I am not as good as another cat, but I will do in a pinch.
The image below shows more of the whole scene, looking very much like yesterday except that Mimi was strolling down the brick path while I was, again, planting tomatoes in that spot; in the background you can see a little strip of salad greens and beyond that some tulips and lunaria blooming. Some things never change. Read more about Stanley.
Browse some rescued cats and kittens!
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