Puppers gets a lot of press on this little 'ole blog of mine, and it recently occurred to me that I have not formally introduced you to our other four-legged daughter, Waimea (Why-Uh-May-Yuh) (who shall henceforth be known and referred to as Mea, or in the alternative, Ms. Meow). Here she is:
Mea, like all of our pets, has a story, and in order for you to fully understand hers, I'll have to start by telling you the story of our first cat, Amelie:
I got Amelie from a rescue organization my first year of law school. I was depressed and terribly lonely, and I'll be damned if that cat didn't in some way contribute to saving my life. She was my companion through the 3 most difficult years ever, and she was truly wonderful. She would make a chirping noise when running down the stairs to greet me, always insist on laying on my chest (despite the fact that she became quite heavy--15 pounds) and liked to keep me company in the shower by sitting on the edge of the tub, between the clear plastic shower curtain and the cloth one, constantly chirping. There were a lot of other wonderful things that I have regretfully forgotten, but I'll always remember how much she meant to me. She passed away quite suddenly on New Years Eve, 2006. That was the worst frickin' New Years, ever. She had some sort of dormant respiratory virus that reared its ugly head, and in a matter of hours--gone. I've never been so devastated. I mean, seriously. Absolutely. Devastated.
Fast forward to the summer of 2007. I was studying for the Bar, and suddenly decided that it was time to look for another calico. (Long story short, immediately after Amelie died, we went through a slew of foster cats to try to fill the void. Worst idea EVER--I hadn't healed yet, and none of them were right for us. Why does it always take $1,000 or more of property damage before I realize things like this?) I found Mea on Petfinder, and we went to go visit her--she was being housed at a Petsmart near our home. God, she was perfect. Almost like another Amelie, but with stumpier legs. I knew I had to have her. This wasn't the same rescue agency as before, and they took forever to decide whether to let us adopt her. Finally though, we were able to take her home, and she kept me company the rest of the summer while I studied.
She was named Precious *gag* when we got her. We renamed her Waimea after Waimea Canyon on the island of Kauai where we honeymooned. Mark Twain called it the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, and it's really gorgeous.
We took a very memorable hike down into it, and fell in love with its intense colors and surprising terrain.
Her calico patches were perfectly suited to the red clay and lava rock outcroppings that create the striking color palette of the canyon. We call her Mea for short.
In retrospect, she isn't much like Amelie at all, besides the fact that she's an incredibly sweet calico. She's older--6 years, and is much more vocal than Amelie, who used to chirp. Mea yowls--hence the nickname, Ms. Meow. She's incredibly tolerant of Puppers (which Amelie never would have been), and doesn't like to sit on TOP of you, but does like to be NEAR you. I dig that.
So, consider yourself introduced my little friend. And don't be silly--I could never forget about you.
