Jingle Daisy

We had to get a new cat last October. Our old one decided to move out of our house. He was actually our daughter’s cat, so she took him with her when she got her own apartment.

 

We went to the local animal shelter and looked at every cat in the room. My husband Murray showed me a few; got them out of their cages for me to hold. When we came to the last cat in the room he said, “Let’s take that one.”

 

A year and a half old, she was pretty scrawny; she’d been abandoned. They’d named her Spooky, because it was Halloween, but Murray had planned ahead of time we’d call her Daisy.

 

Daisy hid a lot the first few days, except at night. The very first night, she jumped on our bed. She sleeps with us almost every night. During the winter, she crawled under the covers and snuggled up against me.

 

We found some extra loud bells for cat collars, so I can hear where they are better with my hearing loss. And this cat is very energetic. Running and jumping and jingling all over the house.

 

When I go upstairs, she runs after me, racing past me on the stairs. Unless she comes behind me and grabs at my feet.

 

Daisy loves to help me when I knit and crochet, stretching the yarn a few feet out of the bag.

 

There are many places in the house she loves. She jumps on the table when we’re eating. She perches on the seat of my exercise bike. Of course, she loves to look out the window, at whatever is going on in the rest of the world. She jumps up on the sink in the bathroom.

 

Once in a while, she’ll crawl on my lap and curl up when I sit in my recliner in the living room. Often, she’ll climb to the back of the chair and lie behind my head, sometimes reaching to pull my hair with her claws. She loves my chair. She uses it as a scratching post.

 

Daisy likes to help me with my work on my computer. Sometimes when the computer is on my lap, she spends sometime on the keyboard, helping with whatever document I’m working on. She has something to say. She might add a bunch of Gs, a few Hs and Ps, a bunch of brackets, and at least twenty blank lines.

 

Daisy is not very talkative, but once when she was shut up inside the bedroom with me, she ran back and forth across the room. “Meow? Meow?” I answered her. “Meow?”

 

In a flash, she jumped on the bed, ran up my body to my chest, turned, and ran away again.

 

What a lot of fun!

 

And, not complaining about Eli, our daughter’s cat, but Daisy purrs a lot louder.

 

What a gift God has given us. Daisy makes me smile all day long.