~little by little, sometimes extremely so~

Before I had old Oblio the Roundhead, I wasn't really all that much of a cat person.  I could take or leave them; mostly leave them.

Really.

Then life changed.  One sumer day in June, I was over at my sister-in-law's house in Haven and she was smiling as she told me about a litter of seven kittens that had been "birthed" under her shed.  We went out and sure enough, there they were.  They were all just about the same as identical, a beautiful yellow color and nearly all of them female.  Tiny things, those newborn kittens were, and when you looked at one you were really looking at all of them.  They were that much alike.  

I swear that I only made the drive over to Haven from Hutch that day to visit Paula.  I had absolutely no intention whatsoever of making any commitment to bring a cat home to my house.  Things changed shortly after I saw the one who would later be adopted by us and I say that with a slight degree of uncertainty because heck, I still don't know if I brought the real first one with us.  On a mid summer's day back in 2010 my son helped me get her back to our house in Hutchinson and she was given the name of "Oblio" after the main character in the movie "The Point".  

Life with little Obie was interesting.  She was just a kitten and I was scared to death that somehow or another she would get lost in the house and we'd never be able to find her.  One day when I came home from the store, Oblio was nowhere to be found.  I looked everywhere, expecting the worst.  For over an hour I sought her out but sadly she seemed to have disappeared.  Just when I was about ready to cry, I heard it.  A slight,  plaintive mew that was coming from somewhere in my bedroom.  I followed the little sound all the way to one of the drawers of my dresser.  I opened that bottom drawer up and sure enough, there was little Oblio.  Somehow she had fallen asleep inside the drawer that I had left partially ajar, one that I had later closed before I left for the day.  The "lost" was found.

That little cat got in a whole lot of trouble, especially 6 months later during the very first Christmas she was with us.  Since she was the first one that I had ever taken care of, I didn't realize that putting up a Christmas tree would be such a big challenge.  Didn't take long for us to learn that lesson.  Time after time little Obie would attempt to scale the tree, so much so that I soon put out a plea on Facebook to try and find some solution to the problem.  I got lots of different advice on how to keep that crazy cat out of the tree, none of which worked.  We suffered through the holiday season with the tree only tipped over one time, a miracle as far as I was concerned.  Having Oblio changed my life in so many ways, all of them for the good, and it was with a tinge of sadness in my heart that I moved here over the big mountain to the other side of the Great Continental Divide without her.  I knew that the move of over 600 miles would be hard for her so she stayed behind and now happily lives with my son.  For the past nearly two years I've lived without her, never once considering getting another cat. 

Well, that is until I met Crosby.

We found her, this calico long haired cat, over at the animal shelter shortly after we returned home from our Christmas back in Kansas.  We'd been talking about getting a cat for a while, especially one who would be a good mouser and take care of any stray critters that might invite themselves in to our house.  The day we went in, little Crosby was just about the only one that they had left and it took me all of about 5 seconds to decide that we'd be giving her a home. Two days later we picked her up from the vet's office and adopted her to live with us.  We were looking forward to lots of fun times with her as she followed us around the house and loved us every chance she could get.  

That didn't exactly happen.  No, not in the least.

For the first three weeks all she did was hide from us.  Her favorite perch was the box underneath the spare bed where she steadfastly remained, refusing to come out for any reason.  She used the litterbox and ate/drank on her very own timetable, mostly when we were not around.  Cats are actually quite good at that.  In other words, they'll let you know if they need you for anything but mostly, they don't.  I was beginning to worry a bit.  What if this cat really didn't want anything to do with people?  

Little by little, sometimes extremely so, Crosby has begun to come around.  Nearly a month into living here with Mike and I plus Sally the Dog, she has ventured out to join us.  She even dared a couple of days ago to jump onto the bed as Mike and I were sleeping, a weird feeling to be sure.  In the early morning hours as I type the words for this blog post, I can hear Crosby making mad dashes of sudden bursts of energy in the kitchen.  The simplest of things, an old straw from a long ago purchase at McDonald's, is entertaining her.  

You know it took me a while to get used to life around here and when he could have easily grown impatient with me, Mike Renfro became just the opposite.  He seemed even more patient with me as he reminded his lonely and homesick brand new wife that it takes some time to get adjusted to living in a new place.  

He always reminded me.  "Baby steps, baby steps."  

And what is true for people may well be true for animals as well.  Good friends and family kept reminding us that sooner or later Crosby would make up to us and you know what?

It looks like they were right.  She did.

Christmastime of 2010~
A 6 month old bundle of yellow-orange fur.
Oblio the Roundhead

She still remembered me, even after I moved away.
A visit back home to Kansas in early 2014.

Crosby, formerly known as Cobble at the shelter, has made a new home here with Mike and I.