Sunday, March 6, 2011

The Three Mouseketeers

You might ask: how did this happen? How did two dog and wild bird-loving grown-ups end up with not one, not two, but three cats?

Here are some possible anwers:
Mice and their large cousins, rats, are everywhere in Big Sur, happy rural rodents with big appetites and no sense of decorum (running across the dining room floor at dinner time, for example, or squawling and gnawing all night between the walls).

Kittens are irresistible. And when someone hands you the one you didn't choose, 'cause the one you wanted is playing hard to get, well, you can't say no, can you?

We actually have a secret craving to be mauled by furry creatures who climb on top of us in bed. Oh, wait, that could be, um, misinterpreted.

So here they are, the three mouseketeers, in their favorite team snuggle position: Lola Augustina, Lady Pearl Grey, and Minerva Minnie-Moo. Three great mousers who still regularly go through tubs of cat food and vats of milk. Lola is curious, Pearl is calm, and Minnie (the previously shy one) will be all over you in no time, just like the proverbial "cheap suit."

Our dog is endlessly patient, enduring their curiosity, sniffing noses with them and staring back into their feline eyes. He only snaps at them when they get too familiar with his food bowl.

We have been invaded by this trio, and find ourselves to be happy collaborators in the good life they're enjoying in our home. They are living art, really. You never know where they'll turn up in a domestic tableau: beside the vase of calla lilies on the dining table, stretched out on the sheepskin beside the altar, or perched on the yoga deck staring out to sea. They pop up everywhere, reminders from the animal kingdom to check in with this moment and purr with contentment.

To be honest, we have asked, "want one?" to a few friends, only to realize that we could never choose which one to part with. So, we have three cats. A trinity of feline love that graces our home. And when the three-headed cat stares down at us in the mornings, meowing for breakfast, we laugh. In this way we remember just how silly we are, and how blessed, too.

photo by Toby Rowland-Jones

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