Meet Miss Mouthy

As some of you know, I lost my Foutchie in the house fire.  It was devastating to lose my cherished friend in this fashion.  It left me unable to really open my heart to another kitty for the past two years.  In olden times people were in mourning for two years.  The first year was "deep" mourning.  You wore black, didn't go out and stayed in to grieve.  The second year was a slow awakening.  You put away the black, and wore lavenders.  You started going out in the world and learning to live again.  In a fashion, that is what I have gone through with the fire and it's aftermath.

So now it was time to open my home to a new friend.  Miss Mouthy came to me early in May.  She's not quite a year old.  She was scared, lonely and hungry.  It took several weeks to get her to come up to me.  Then I was allow three pats--no more.  Slowing, she came to trust me.  It hurt me to see her sleeping in the flower bed or in the yard, with no place to go.  When a bad storm came up, enough was enough.  I brought her inside, and she's been there ever since.  She fit in so perfectly.  She keeps me company while I write.  She cuddles on my feet or legs at night.  And she talks.  Boy, does she talk.


The time was right for her and me both.