Those who know me best know that I love my fur babies. About a month ago, I lost a dear senior cat who had been my constant companion from the day we got her. She had been a rescue kitty, and when we brought her home, she was frantic. I barely got her into the house because she was so scared. I managed to hold her for about 15 seconds and talk to her before she shredded my hands and escaped into the basement. We settled in for what I thought was going to be a really long adjustment period, but surprisingly, the following morning, I woke up feeling really hot and sweaty with the cat lying across my neck like a big fluffy scarf. Needless to say, I was smitten. She followed me wherever I went in the house and laid across my shoulder while I typed. I called her my editor. She was my comfort when my life transitioned into empty nesthood and beyond. Her passing was sudden, and we think it was likely heart failure. It was hard for me, but not a bad way to go for her, and I’m thankful for that.
I went through a period of not being sure whether I wanted to adopt another cat. I think we all do that. We love them like family, and when we think of losing them, it just seems too hard. But, then, as surely as the sun rises, we eventually find ourselves wanting to reach out and offer love and a home to another. Enter Phantom.
Phantom was so majestic that it was love at first sight. He was classified as a domestic long hair, but I think he may be part Maine Coon. He’s huge. Not fat, but lanky and long-legged. His face is masked, and at first, I thought about calling him Zorro. Surprisingly though, once I got him home, he disappeared. I knew he was upstairs somewhere, but I honestly could not find him. I put out some food and water and waited. During that time, I decided Phantom would be more appropriate. It took about three weeks for him to show himself, and how he seems to be settling in some.