Scratcher of heads, rubber of bellies
As you can probably guess by her pinned back ears, Emma was not happy about the arrival of young Boo in July of 2013. As she stormed off he arched his back and his tail got awfully thick as the little fellow made himself look as big as possible. He instinctively understood that he was going to have to make nice with the queen and did his best to get on her good side.
Emma was not happy about the arrival of little Boo in the summer of 2013. On his first foray into the house at large he had to climb the stairs first past Ellie, then Sam, and finally Emma at the top. I spent most of Boo’s first month with Emma, letting her know this was still, and always would be, her home. She was a sweetheart and in time not only came to accept the little fellow but let him snuggle up with her. It’s still hard for me at times to edit pictures of her, knowing that in a year and a half we’d be going through another introduction, this time getting Boo to accept young Trixie after Emma died far too young.
Both Sam and Emma followed Boo around as he explored but Sam watched Emma as much as he watched Boo, here looking up at Emma atop the stairs as she growls at the intrusion of the young kitten. Sam loved his life with his two older sisters and never wanted it to change, but when they both died young he accepted his new siblings pretty quickly.
We adopted Sam and Emma on the same day and kept them together in isolation for the first couple of weeks so they bonded quickly as they played and adapted to their new lives. Emma was about a year older so she and Scout helped raise the little fellow and he was naturally devastated when both his older sisters died young.
There are no cats in this picture, from 2008, but you can probably guess where Emma and Sam decided to sleep.
Today marks the three year anniversary of the day Emma died. I was driving along the Oregon coast this fall when out of nowhere I had this sudden thought of her and felt a sharp pang of sorrow that instantly brought tears to my eyes but not my cheeks. The thought passed as quickly as it arrived, the pain soon followed and I was back enjoying the beautiful seascapes once more. Those intense moments are rare but I’m surprised they still happen at all, it wasn’t like that with the other cats this far along, perhaps it was because she was so young and slipped so slowly through our fingers.
You are missed my sweet Em, but I’m deeply thankful for the years we spent together. In this picture she was about two years old, sitting at the entrance to my office.
I hope you’ll forgive the repost as I’ve posted it a couple of times before, but this one always make me laugh, Emma and the tree she loved too much. Every year I think we ought to replace this bedraggled old tree but I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it, its failings are a memorial to all who climbed its branches.
A picture of Emma from 10 years ago on Christmas Eve, a couple of days after we adopted her, one of my all-time favorite Christmas presents. I thought of her as I was putting up her beloved tree a couple days ago, seeing the branches permanently bent down from her repeated climbs, hard to believe she’s been gone almost three years. Miss you Em.
Emma wasn’t buying it.
This is the look of a cat who can’t believe his impudent young sister had the audacity to lick him on the head. I reminded our nine-year old that eight years ago an impudent young cat wrapped his arms around his older sister’s head and gave her a full-on bath. I’m not sure he appreciated the reminder.
Boolie 