Leia‘s reputation precedes her. Before folks even see her face, the questions come:
“I heard she’s a real Russian Blue?”
“Is it true that she’s an intergalactic princess?”
“Is she really the most beautiful cat in the universe?”
We shall deal with that last inquiry first, since it is the easiest.
Yes, of course Leia is the most beautiful cat in the universe.
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a mysterious council decreed that the planet Tabby’s Place should be home to the most beautiful cats. We do not know much about the powerful figures who made this decision, only that they are lightsaber-toothed rebels who use the Force to protect the universe’s strategic reserve of Fancy Feast.
But, back to Leia. Like every Tabby’s Place cat before her, and all those yet to come, she is indeed supreme in beauty.
Leia is as graceful as the silvery moon, with the elfin elegance of Audrey Hepburn. She is tied for the title of “most beautiful cat in the universe” with Tabby’s Place cats who have been blessed with the physiques of Jabba the Hutt, if that particular Hutt were even more gelatinous. (Jedi as far away as Idaho yearn to see the jellied splendor of Gator.)
Perhaps Tabby’s Place was granted all these beautiful cats because we have eyes like twin suns. With one, we see as most of the world(s) see: cats are cute. Cats are charming. Cats come in colors like “allspice” and “marmalade” and “technicolor dream gelato” (how else would you describe a calico?).
But the second sun shines upon buried beauty. There is a grizzled loveliness in Tux‘s twenty-three-year-old muzzle. There is perfection in paraplegic Regina‘s persevering legs.
And there is more beauty in Leia’s story than in her cheekbones.
The most beautiful cat at Tabby’s Place happens to be hyperthyroid, a common but cranky condition requiring medication and monitoring. Adding another freckle is feline lower urinary tract disease (FLUTD), treated with a careful prescription diet.
On some planets, being so nakedly needy will kick you right off the best-dressed list.
But on our little outpost of love, light years from the normal order of things, a cat like Leia is number one.
Needy? Well, that’s just part of being royal. Leia is gracious enough to grant us the honor of caring for her. She is generous enough to depend on us. And that is how we know that, yes, she is indeed a princess.
“Princess.” The word suggests someone who needs saving. But Leia has not been making any calls to Obi-Wan Kenobi. Pity and regret are not the droids she was looking for. If you start to feel bad for her, she will concentrate the full force of her goodness on you. She will use her royal connections to command you to giggle and snuggle. Gladness is required in Leia’s orbit. She turned Tabby’s Place into the preeminent party planet. You may be the one holding her in your arms, but you will feel this lithe, laughing little cat holding up the whole universe.
“Princess.” Say the word, and Leia will smile. OK, say any word, or nothing at all, and Leia will smile. It is part of her peculiar beauty to look wry at all times, with a tiny mouth turned up at the ends like an interstellar elbow macaroni.
Some say it looks as though she has always just heard a photographer yell, “cheese!” Some say it looks as though cheese is imminent. The truth is that Leia smiles because she is beautiful, and Leia is beautiful because she knows how to smile.
She smiled straight through her “hopeless situation,” as though she knew it were just a form of spacecraft to get her to Tabby’s Place.
When her needs left her unwanted, stars came out on her behalf. Kind people carried Leia through episodes more abominable than the Star Wars prequels. (Say the words “Jar Jar Binks,” and Leia will almost stop smiling. But then she will start again, because she will remember that both you and she exist at the same moment in the same galaxy, and so does pepperoni. Also, those ecstatic Ewoks called “kittens” exist, and that is reason enough never to be cranky ever again.)
“Princess.” Yes, Leia is a princess. But she will only accept this title if you do the same. After all, she is the most beautiful cat in the universe. And to be beautiful is to boast about somebody else’s beauty, until the whole galaxy hears it. Or at least central New Jersey, the most important part.
Which brings us to our least interesting question.
Is Leia a “real” Russian Blue? It’s true she looks fancy even when she is grooming her tuckus or putting a felt mouse in her water bowl, using the Force of “slaphappy.” She has the bone structure and minky coat of a purebred, though we have no “proof” of her lineage.
But we are not concerned. Leia’s pedigree was formed a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. What matters now is that she is here, on the planet where a new hope makes everyone beautiful, and fear never strikes back.
The beauty is strong with this one.
PS: If you come to Tabby’s Place looking for Leia, we will have to inform you that your princess is in another castle. That’s right. Our brave lady has been adopted by two of the most gentle, generous, loving, luminous people in any galaxy. Look for a guest blog from Leia’s new mom soon.