This post could have had several names.
In living color.
She’s a rainbow.
But “banish winter” it shall be.
We have officially entered the winter doldrums. Unless you’re one of those lucky creatures living south of the Equator (g’day, mates!), you feel me. The Christmas lights are down; the weather is best described as “mucky;” and we’re long yawning months away from the colors of spring.
To top it off, some silly someone decided that this is the time of year in which we should clean our closets and dial up our disciplines and stop eating Funfetti directly out of the jar, when clearly this is precisely the time of year in which we need Funfetti. Or at least fun.
As always, the cats are here for us.
No sooner had the Christmas tree and menorah and singing snowcats left the Lobby, than a bright beauty swooped in to save us from stark somber solemnity. With no offense whatsoever to the approximately 752 black-and-white cats in the Lobby, it made our hearts leap to suddenly see brilliant, beautiful color.
We were graced with not one, but two, bright blossoms in the Lobby, right in the midst of the bleak midwinter.
But sweet as it is to set eyes on Rowena and Jenny, their visual beauty is the least of their blessings. If we needed reminders that we can and we will persevere through winter, we got the right two cats, right in the heart of Tabby’s Place.
Rowena came to the Lobby first, the end of a long, slippery journey that few expected to end well. Ro was found, faintly alive, on a Good Samaritan’s front porch. The crazy-quilt calico was severely dehydrated, hypothermic, anemic and malnourished. Our vet team estimated her age at jurassic, and blood work revealed an exceedingly rare tumor of the parathyroid gland.
The only treatment? Surgery.
The only problem? Rowena was too weak to survive watching an episode of Naked and Afraid, much less a trip to the OR.
But Rowena is a rainbow, and her spectrum smashed expectations. Medication made mincemeat of her anemia (OK, at least improved it significantly), and she rocketed above six pounds. Soon, surgery didn’t seem so silly after all. (As of this post, we’re considering it carefully. Stay tuned.)
Older than Robert Redford but bolder than a cherry red Lamborghini, our conquering calico was wildly, rebelliously alive.
Where better to move her than the Lobby?
Who better to remind us weaker creatures of the power of life?
But, in case restoring our psyches was too much work for one cat, Rowena would soon call in the reserves. Her calico co-general was none less than that gigantic glamour girl, 450 pounds of polychromic perfection…Jenny.
Painted in pastel and oozing enough love to melt Antarctica, Jenny is the hot pink sweater in a sea of taupe burlap. From her micromeow to her megamush affection, she’s the reggae rhythm drowning out every dirge. You cannot, utterly cannot, see Jenny and feel wintry.
Spring has sprung ahead of schedule.
And you, kittens, are invited to surf the spectrum with us.