Meet and Greet

Rosy (short Rosendo in Spanish) came into my heart today.
A bit of magic made it possible.
Quite eerie in a way.

Just last week I was working on a new short story for a post.
If you've been around for awhile you may remember I wrote serial short stories about cats and other things last year. Neighborhood Nightlife was one of those stories. I just started back to writing short stories a week ago. I had left Ragpuff dangling since last fall. I had two surgeries last October and November. One under the arm the other repairing a torn rotor cuff. Not only had I left Ragpuff dangling, I left Necco, and her friends in Neighborhood Nightlife dangling as well. Before I resumed Neighborhood Nightlife, Necco's story, Gretchen's alter ego, and her life as an apartment cat, I wanted to change it somewhat, since all her cat friends had moved away in the last episode. I had decided sometime back that I would call the series Apartment Cat 101. I had the piece about half finished and would have gotten back to it this coming week. In the story, Necco's papa human brings a little kitten home. They called her Rosebud. Necco was about to give daily lessons to the kitten in the p's and q's of apartment life. That's as far as I had written.

Today, this morning early, my husband was out at the farm feeding the feral cats that he's done every day for over ten years. There are four mommas out there with litters, but a strange little fellow came up to him and begged in his squeak-hinge little mew, to be picked up. He was too clean, too friendly, too at ease being around humans, to be a feral. It melted my husband's heart and after searching around in case he had a home, he realized by the bony body under all that fur that he had most likely just been dropped off the day before. Abandoned. So he brought the little fella home. My husband did not know that he was following everything I had written about Rosebud and Necco. It was like out of a dream for me. Here I was creating a kitty character for Necco to mentor and today it actually happened the way I'd imagined. The only difference is the story kitty was Rosebud, a creamy kitty with white cheeks and a rosy little nose.

The real Rosy, the new little foundling that we got today, is a Maine Coon kitten, five weeks old, if that, and has a little brown swatch of color across his nose, giving it a dirty appearance or a tan rosebud, if one stretched the imagination. He is thin, bony, but otherwise not really dirt-dirty or infested with fleas or mites. He was clean except for little burr seeds that had become attached to his long fur. My husband pulled out all the burrs before bringing him home. After he'd eaten, not Fancy Feast, mind you, but a can of Friskies I had hoped Gretchen would like but didn't. Rosy gets a spoonful about every two hours. He's using the potty, not the one I put out for him, but Gretchen's. For some reason he likes that one best. After he'd had a little nap and a lot of tender loving care, I decided he needed to have a bath if he was going to be climbing all over me. He took to that as if it was part of his daily routine; he's nice and shiny and smells heavenly now.

One of the odd things about Rosy is that from the time he found Paul he acted like he's never had another life. He rested in the crook of his arm as Paul drove home with him. From the minute he came into the apartment, he walked around like he'd always been here. He is friendly beyond belief and cuddly and likes to touch noses with me on occasion, as he was saying, I love you and thanks for giving me a forever home.

Five-year-old Gretchen, as expected, threw a hissy fit for most of the afternoon. Finally, she gave up trying to intimidate Rosy, who just ignored her growls and hisses and walked up and down the hall in front of her, showing off. Everyone took a nap, and Gretchen has quit her fussing and is going about her business. As long, I think, as Rosy is nowhere to be seen. Rosy has stayed curled up on my chest, under a flannel blanket most of the evening while I've been on the computer. Presently he's sitting next to my right hand, falling asleep sitting up. He's a keeper.

Writing Update:
I finished my last revision on Murder at Mallard River Bend and sent it off to be read, and critiqued. Nano (National Novel Writing Month) is four days and four weeks away. I've decided to continue the campground mystery series for the 2009 Nano project. I'll be planning and plotting and mapping out Deadly Retreat at Mallard River Bend. The nightmare/fun? continues. Murder at Mallard River Bend was originally a Nano project in 2007. Because of my surgeries I only wrote for three days in the 2008. That draft (The Fairy Garden) is on the back burner for a while. I was able to bring MMRB up from 66K to 82K. I'd like it with an even higher word count but perhaps after creating the next book in the series it will help me be to expand the first.