She and her twin brother where born in a shelter.
Her brother was larger and more strong.   She was weak, timid, and shy.

Abandoned and without a name, she hid from the others least they attack because of her smallness.  The girl ate the scraps left behind and only when no one was watching.  Head bowed low, she took what space she could of a rotten blanket warmed by the pressed bodies around her.  Taking care to rise before the sun, her days were lost in shadows watching the comings and goings of the house.

At one point, she saw that people would sometimes happen by and someone would disappear.   Sometimes, those leaving seemed happy.  Sometimes sad.   Very rarely did they return and she was joyed.  No love was lost when she had one less reason to starve while others feasted.  One less reason to spend the night in frightful dreams.

However, it seemed that when one left, two more would come to fight over night-time blanket.  The situation had changed.  Although small, she had grown over the months.  Although still despised by others, she noticed the new arrivals where even more small.   They, too, had no names.  They had no mother.  No father.  Usually abandoned in sibling batches, the small ones where often ignore, left alone, or even worse, bullied as she was.  She felt their unexpressed pain.

Slowly, abandoning her shadow, she reached out to the smallest of them.  Assistance was offered meekly, at first, but as her confidence grew, she became emboldened to help the needed rather they accepted it or not.   There became a new purpose behind eating last.  Those she protected slept as close to her as she could, giving her a different reason to take as little of the blanket as possible.  Still, without a name, she had a purpose.

And then, one day, some people came into the shelter.   A man and a woman.  From her new perspective, she could feel their apprehension – especially from the man.  The woman chatted excitedly, peering at one after another before her eyes finally found the twin brother.   Strong, smart, and playful, he had captured his audience.   The woman seemed satisfied.   She clasped her hands and called him near.   He had found a home.

The man, however, seemed less satisfied by the woman’s overly confident selection.  His eyes did not seek the light, but the shadows, and he found her curled just as tight and small as possibly could be.  He reached and she did not flinch.  Rather, she was so afraid that her body could not move even as she could smell the man’s near desperation and depression.  Although bigger than she, he was lost, uncertain, and needed care just like her charges.

While gently holding her, the man spoke to the woman.  Expressing her doubts about size and health, the caretaker of the shelter assured that the worries were unfounded.   The one the man had chosen was healthy.  She was brave and kind.  It was a wise choice and something to be cherished for a lifetime.

The woman looked into the man’s big blue eyes and sighed.  She shook her head and gently traced the broken M on the girl’s forehead.  With one last look at the twin brother, she nodded slowly and the deal was made.

She had found a home and, just was predicted, was cherished for a lifetime.

—   This is dedicated to Cutie.
Cutie was a shelter rescue cat.   Jason and I adopted her from S.O.P (Save Our Pets) some 15 years ago.  Some kind of short hair Maine Coon mix, she did her best to take care of Jason by making sure he didn’t stay up too late.  Cutie was there to wake him in the morning.   –  She even woke him when he overslept for his job interview.   Without our little kitty, he may not even be employed right now.  Since I wasn’t there, she did her best and her best was more than enough.

I could go on and on about her kindness and motherly ways.  Even when the hamsters got loose, I didn’t have to worry.  Rather, she’d help me round them up by cuffing them on the back of the neck and bringing them to me, just like a mother would for a kitten.

Cutie died on August 12th, 2017.   I was told that she went peacefully while guarding Jason as he slept – just as she had done for years.

Although I hadn’t seen her in over a year, I was so sure that Cutie would remember me.  I thought that she was take care of me just as she always did.  It was part of being home.  Now, that chapter has closed.

I miss my little girl.