Cinereous is not afraid of explosions.

She raised three kittens.

She forgave human beings for naming her “Cinereous.”

She’s not about to start wearing a crash helmet now.

Let us all pause to imagine the infinite cuteness of Cinereous in a crash helmet.

This picture will only exist in our imaginations, because Cinereous is not the kind of cat to take cover.

Although kittens are all atomic gerbils with poor impulse control, and mothers are all plainclothes saints made of 98% courage, only Cinereous raised Boom, Bop, and Bam.

Any kitten could be accurately named “Boom,” “Bop,” and/or “Bam,” and Cinereous’ triplets were no more or less madcap than average. In one sense, her motherhood was the same ordinary miracle that repeats every day. With no training, and no coffee, cats rise to the outrageous occasion of loving their littles. They learn what to do by doing it.

Some Great Mercy whispers in their ear (and rubs their shoulders). The ninja hamsters become toddlers, lithe and strong.

The stoic mothers eventually get to sleep without simultaneously serving as living trampolines, ice cream parlors, and bean bag chairs.

The world is rebuilt. They weather the blast.

But as everyone, mother or other, knows, a blast from outside is no match for explosions within.

Kitten-rearing is not for weenies, and Cinereous was valorous. But unbeknownst to Boom, Bop, Bam, and the species that uses the word “unbeknownst,” the real battle was thundering within.

Cinereous, named for ash, warm as hearth-light, was in congestive heart failure due to a raging lungworm infection.

Let us all pause to envision the infinite courage of Cinereous in her own body.

Whatever she felt, whatever electrical storms sizzled her systole and diastole, she did not wallow in the dust. She had three little embers to fan into flame.

All they had was this moment, and the next, and then another, together.

All she had to do was what love asked, instant by instant.

She was not a misfortune. She was a mother.

She was also a Tabby’s Place cat. Her mettle met our love, and the fireworks filled the sky.

Congestive heart failure is not usually a diagnosis with a “good outcome.” If we were more careful creatures, we would all be in crash helmets at Tabby’s Place.

But we love the feel of a cat’s velvet head-bonk too much to shield our brows from fire and rain.

Our hearts are as bald as beans.

So we love, and love, and love again, as though some Great Mercy whispered that it would be worth it.

Whispers say more than explosions.

And lungworm, once evicted, may not be life-threatening after all.

Cinereous wouldn’t have told us about her heart, if she could help it. She is a mother all the way, and she does not want anyone to worry. She would much rather worry about you. Have you eaten? Put on some socks, the floor is cold. Don’t let the other kittens make you sad. Your new haircut makes you look like a movie star. Yes, really. When did you last eat?

Besides, Cinereous was too busy telling us about her heart: not the one with a diagnosis, but the one with a direct line to the divine.

She set it out in the open, for all to see. Having never been “properly socialized to people,” she was entitled, even expected, to remain “feral.”

But those are the rules of war, and Cinereous came in peace.

She waived her right to remain cynical.

She waved her tail like a magic silver wand, with one and only one power: to prove that all of this is worth it.

No matter how long we have together. No matter where our scars hide. No matter the weather, without and within.

And these days, the skies over our cloud-colored queen are as clear as her EKG.

Cinereous has weathered the blast. Cured of lungworm, she is no longer in heart failure. Now it is her turn to be young again.

Loving the living is not for weenies, and we are all just a bunch of jumbo kittens most of the time. I suggest we ditch the helmets and hold each other as tight as we can.

And if you’re looking for Cinereous, she has become Jonathan’s office-mate and supervisor. Now that’s worthy of some fireworks.

Update: if you’re looking for Cinereous, you will not find her, because her forever family found her first. At last, her time has come to be as cherished as any kitten.

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