So, despite the storms, I was thankful for the heavy rains, which knocked the pollen down a bit. My eyeballs were thankful, anyway.

Yesterday was an anniversary of sorts in our house. It was exactly one year ago that I found four tiny fuzzballs nestled behind the overgrown spirea bush off the back patio.

I was standing in my kitchen when I happened to look up and see this wee little gray and white face peeking around the corner of the house at me. 

I was a goner, despite my protestations of not being a “cat person” and not wanting a pet. It’s been a roller coaster of a year with these kittens. One went to live in NY with my daughter’s best friend. We lost one kitten to a car on the road. Their mama, who is still feral, is a permanent resident on the back patio.

And Verstappen and Yuki have stolen our hearts (and our seats and most of my bed).  

I had a plan when I moved into this new place. It did not include pets. I wanted to be able to travel at the drop of a hat. I absolutely did not want to deal with hair. And I knew I had a house full of plants that were toxic to cats.

But these sweet babies won me over.

I got rid of the toxic plants. 
I bought a stick vacuum to make vacuuming the stairs easier. 
I found the most amazing pet sitters and gained a closer relationship with a friend because of it. 
I got used to sleeping with someone tucked behind my knees and sleeping on my shoulder. 

They showed up. They didn’t jump up and down, saying, “Oh, pick me! Pick me! Pick me!” They didn’t try to win me over by being less cat-like, so I would let them stay. They were themselves. And we fell in love with them as they are because love is not earned.

This is a fact that Yuki repeatedly reminds me of every time I walk into the bathroom and find the toilet paper completely unrolled on the floor.