Last year, in the fall, when JT and I both tried to manage the open wound of our freshly broken family, we picked out two kittens to join our family. I thought that caring for other beings would help to heal our hearts. And the kittens – Tiger and his sister Lucy – were a great success.
Though they sometimes try our patience, they have mostly been a wonderful addition to our lives. They make us laugh, they are good for a cuddle on a cold evening. When they join us for stories each night, we cuddle up together in JT's flannel nest. They nap quietly in a cozy sunny spot, and it seems like they have always been here. In so many ways, they help to make our house feel like a home.
They greet us at the door when we come home from school, happy to see us at the end of the day. They sometimes join JT in his playroom, curling up for a nap in the sleeping bag. On the cold winter days, Tiger and Lucy sit on the radiator in the dining room, looking outside the window and keeping me company as I write and grade papers.
Whether curled up on an afghan, or stretched out in a patch of sunlight, they warm our lives in so many ways. When JT is away for the evening and my house feels terribly quiet, they are my comforting creatures.