Yeah. I’m dancing. It’s a happy dance. Happy, yeah.
That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? Cats getting adopted = good thing.
So, um, I’m sorry about my tears all over this blog entry.
As you may have guessed by now, my J & R’s Flora is now in her wrong forever home with her adoring mama, papa and seven furry siblings.
As you can see from these photos, sent by that adoring papa, Flora is doing just wonderfully, clearly smitten with this new life o’ love she’s found.
It doesn’t look like she’s losing any sleep over missing her real mama me.
Not that I want my baby girl Flora to be losing sleep. Not that I want anything but for her to be returned so I can scoop her up happiness for her and her undeniably awesome new family.
In all seriousness, I am happy. (As the great sage Sting might say, so happy that I can’t stop crying.) No, really, I can stop crying (sniff <sob> sniff).
This is what we want, right? These are the good goodbyes.
Jonathan, Larry, Kelly and several others offered to hide Flora for me this weekend, playing dumb when Mr. and Mrs. Flora came in for their new baby. “Flora? What are you talking about? We’ve never had a cat by that name. No habla inglese, actually.”
But, I knew, if I really loved Flora, I couldn’t keep her away from her meant-to-be forever home. And, good golly, was this meant to be.
So, yes, I’m thankful for Flora’s adoption. Thankful for the amazing timing that protected my babies from the rash decision I almost made.
And thankful for Mr. and Mrs. Flora, and their loving patience with this very Flora-addled girl. 🙂
Special thanks go to John of What A Good Cat, for sending me just the smile and reminder I needed of what a very good, indeed dance-worthy, thing Flora’s adoption truly is. In his web travels, totally unrelated to baby Flora, John came upon the following:
“The Furry Dance, also known as The Flora…is one of the oldest British customs still practised today.”
Now, tell me: could we make this up if we tried?
So I’ll dance, with real joy, for the love that is without limit and without goodbyes. Flora may not be “mine” in the proper sense, but this love is and will forever be, as long as there’s God and cats and friends who keep me dancing. Bloom on, Flora my love.