2.2.13  Queen of the Cottage, Helm of the Heart

She came from a feral colony in Lowell,MA. I had traveled there to pick up a 20 

pound boy cat, who had had several unhappy homes and for the most part spent 

his 7 years in shelters and boxes. We met through internet dating, and hit it off 

immediately.


 While I was there, one staffer turned to me with a small kitten held, 

under her armpits, her small furred legs dangling, long tufts extending out from 

her ears, quizzical authoritative expression upon her 7 week old face. Long fur 

trailing beneath her footpads, a sign of multigeneration ferals. I reluctantly left her 

for a week, their promises to hold her,  to complete the adoption process, and was 

back, quick as possible, to bring her home.


As soon as she joined us, my youngest adopted her, heart, mind and soul. She 

instantly fell in love with both him, and also the 7 year old 20 pound male who 

preceded her by a week, and they have been spooning and wrestling and cuddling 

and having lovers quarrels ever since. 


She has a hard time eating because she needs to be sat with and 'guarded'. 

She needs to be kissed about 50 times a day, all at the same time in the same place 

on her head. Then she's good to go. 


She needs to wrestle daily, with cats and humans, claws and teeth out and 

engaged.    She sits in your lap, leans, and waits for you to enclose her and just 

stay still. When you are drawing or reading, she sits by you and grabs you with her 

claw, over and over and over and over again. 


 She tries to attack and intimidate the  little old mostly blind dog from getting on 

her perch on  the bed, but I alpha her. it's "Nope, that is NOT going to happen, 

small one, not to that old sweet dog." 


 If you put a piece of paper on the bed, she will finally relax because she knows 

where her place is. If you stay very very still, she kisses your nose. 


She announces herself throughout the house in the finest Siamese tradition, but 

when you go look for her to give her herbs and vitamins in terribly fancy canned 

food, she remains quietly sitting behind some object, listening to you in the most 

ardently disinterested feline tradition.


 Her given name is Mary Jane, named by her person who was 16 at the time, so you 

know what that is about...