When he was small, my youngest son had a habit of filling his pockets with treasures he encountered in his daily adventures. I didn't always understand the value he saw in his chosen objects -- really, how many rocks and sticks could one boy keep? In his eyes, though, each one was beautiful and important. Life is just like that on a larger scale, isn't it? We gather up the precious bits of our experiences and save them all to learn from and enjoy later. Perhaps you'll find a little something here that you'd like to keep in your own pockets. Thanks for visiting.

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

A loyal friend

She was with us for four years before he came into our lives.  It was her that I used to hold on my lap and speak to sweetly to calm her skittish nature, her who helped me learn how to care for and nurture someone little who depended on me.

When he arrived twelve and a half years ago, filling our hearts with a love that surprised us with its intensity and made us drunk with a new kind of joy, our once quiet home echoed with the unfamiliar sounds of a crying infant first, and later, of the inquisitive exploration of a bright toddler.  Confused, she took to spending most of her days hiding in the basement whenever he was awake.  She did not know what to make of this curious creature who had taken over her spot on my lap and whose unexpected movements seemed foreign and frightening to her.  She was not sure that she liked it at all.

She came around eventually.  As he grew, he began to win her trust by showing her his kind, gentle nature: he spoke sweetly to her, bestowed soft scratches upon her head, made fun games out of giving her her favourite treats.  She learned that he was a boy who liked to lay in a warm, quiet spot to read as much as she liked to lay in a warm, quiet spot to sleep.  The two of them grew together as they grew older.

Now she greets him at the doorway of his room each morning when he rises, and at the doorway of our home each afternoon when he gets back from school.  She howls at him to get his attention, obliges him with an enthusiasm that is surprising for a sixteen-and-a-half year old cat when he invents a new way to play with her, and spends every single afternoon curled up contentedly beside him on the couch while he crafts new worlds on his laptop and enjoys the warmth of her purring body next to him.  Those who say that a dog is a boy's best friend have never seen the joy that this cat and this boy find in each other's company.

Somehow watching them sitting quietly together each afternoon makes me wish a little that I could keep them both here with me, exactly as they are now, for always.


  1. Love this! Our cat is the same way with B. It is awesome to watch them becoming best friends.

    1. It sure is, Jen! I'm glad B has a best cat friend, too. :)