It’s the time of year to repost one of my favorite images, from 2009, Emma and the tree she loved too much. Of all the loves through all of time I think none was as pure as her love for this tree. It only had to survive 7 years of her affections as she died far too young, but even so we decided when we left Portland that after a couple of decades it was time to say goodbye to the bedraggled old thing. We went without a tree our first two years in Arizona but I put up the new one last night, holding back a few tears thinking of how much easier it is to assemble without a black cat jumping into its branches before you can even piece it together.
Less than a week after her adoption in 2007, Emma shoves one of her toy mice under the door. She’d reach under to try to get them back but often they’d end up out of reach. When we moved and emptied the house I think we finally found all the remaining ones that had been shoved into the most obscure places, but I like to think at least one remains, a little reminder of a sweet black cat for whom this house was home.
Ellie in 2009, she came into the living room while I was playing with Scout to let me know she was available for hedgehogging, a minute later she was making music with her favorite toy, then a minute later was ready for a snooze. She’d sometimes have soft little snores, sometimes she’d make little whoops as her legs made running motions.
Taken two minutes apart on Halloween of 2014, Ellie teaches Boo how to wait by the door so they can greet me when I come home from work (he was always eager to take her spot after she got up). Our first cat Templeton used to wait by the door for me, then Scout learned it from him, and Sam and Emma from Scout. But after Ellie arrived the cats learned to hold back a bit as her feet started dancing but she was looking at me and not at cats who might have wandered underfoot. Sam and Boo sometimes greet me at the door now but not with the consistency of the old days.