ZIGGY, MARLEY AND ME. A LOVE STORY.
ZIGGY, MARLEY AND ME
A LOVE STORY
There they go, they’re off and running …thundering down the hall, into the living room through the kitchen and back to the front door. And once again I’m laughing. Ziggy and Marley are 5 month old kittens.
I adopted them in June. Friends said don’t get kittens, get a relaxed older cat who will sit in your lap (no guarantees) and be quiet (how boring). Naturally forsaking good advice I went in the opposite direction and fell in love with these two kittens, who are brothers, litter-mates.
That means they’ve been together since birth, they’re each other’s best friend. They curl up on each other, they play together, play fight together, they eat each other’s food and they call to each other when they’ve been apart too long.
Marley is sleeping on my bed and Ziggy is in the cat tree and suddenly one of them misses the other and calls to his brother and the other comes running. They sleep all day and come alive at night, and sometimes in the early morning and although I know they’re up to no good, well… they’re kittens and have their needs. I turn over and go back to sleep.
They have no fear, these boys of mine. They learn as they do. Which, if called upon, I have to admit is often hilarious. The day I saw them climb the floor to ceiling curtains, I was, at first, horrified and angry and then…I was yet again overcome with laughter. There they were, in mid-curtain, hanging above the floor, looking very puzzled. I think to enjoy kittens one has to be relatively relaxed about “stuff” and “things”.
Then there’s the morning I walked into the bathroom, and saw they’d dislodged the light fixture above the sink. My guess is that they tried to jump on it, hold themselves steady on it, and … I leave it to your imagination. They’ve taken over the bathtub. They figured out that by bringing their various mouse toys and balls and spring toys into the tub they can have a raucous time without losing their precious playthings. So smart, my darlings.
They keep me laughing, they keep me from holding on to things that don’t matter much, if at all. They teach me to let go. Of course all my carefully nurtured plants are now outside and I have no idea what I’ll do when it’s time to take them inside. Cats of all ages love to nibble on plants. It’s not good for them but they cannot resist. Like me, with chocolate as well as two sugar cubes in my morning latte.
And young as they are, they understand love. One morning I was feeling a little down and didn’t want to get out of bed, yet. So I scrunched under the quilt and within seconds there they were, my two, coming to curl up next to me and making sure that a paw or some part of them was touching me. They gave me a gift of love.
“Love is my religion
Love is my religion
Love is my religion…”