paws on the ground

sometimes I think the best decision we made in figuring out how to make a life here was getting cats.

when you move across the world to a country where you don't know anyone, don't speak the language, don't know the culture and have to spend the first two months in swine flu lockdown, adjusting isn't exactly a walk in a park

in fact, it feels a lot more like running into a concrete wall repeatedly while taking breaks to sit on your behind and cry for awhile and then getting up to do it again.

the good news is it gets WAY better and eventually the concrete wall disappears and you can't believe you used to not live in this place.

in the meanwhile you look around and try to figure out how in the heck you're supposed to make this new place into something resembling a familiar space where you can live, breathe and function.

also, when you're busy trying to adapt and adjust and learn and live? you spend a lot of time dealing with a daily flood of emotions that can be incredibly overwhelming and exhausting.

you need things that pull you away from the land of emotions and freak-outs and processing and place your feet back on the ground.

i claim that as one of the main reasons Holli and I both wanted a kitten.

beyond our undeniable love of all things furry (although I make exceptions for mice, rats, hamsters and guinea pigs- ugh to ALL), I think we both needed something that would anchor us back to the present in front of us. Something that would remind us of life outside of all of this crazy adjusting and bring us back to the simplicity of things that sometimes get forgotten in that mess.

simple things like watching a kitten sleep or explore or want to curl up on your lap.

dobby was all of those things for us. as well as source of entertainment and stories with her antics and adamant desire to wake us up at the crack of dawn, refuse any and all affection and have intense separation anxiety. normal, she is not.


Hol was on the we need another cat train. And I repeatedly told her that she was crazy. That Dobby was antisocial and afraid enough as it was and would absolutely, positively hate another cat.

Then I found Luna, crying and tiny on my way to church one morning. And I joined Holli's train, kitten in tow and hopeful that Dobby wouldn't hate us forever.

The past few months have not been easy and for a whole host of reasons that are not meant for a blog. It has felt a little bit like I've come back to that concrete wall.


Luna has brought my feet back to the ground again.

Her little tiny self has made me laugh, has entertained me with her insanity (the joke is that her name is short for Luna-tic) and has kept me company when I just need to talk or cry or sit in silence.

Dobby loves her, we love her, my students love hearing stories about her. She has made our little apartment feel complete.

God has used her to pull me back into reality, into the simplicity of getting up and being present to each day even when my heart and head are full. For that, I am grateful.