Thursday, December 31, 2009

The Kitten Who Became A Girl



Arianna was born on a hot afternoon in September, two days before her mother’s birthday. We knew her gender and her name before her arrival. The first time I saw her I noticed the magnificent huge eyes, long lashes, and sculpted brows. Arianna had fur, lots of soft fur covering her perfect little form. She didn’t cry like most babies, but she did make an occasional “meow” sound.

When petted as a baby, Arianna would make a sound that sounded something like “coo- coo-coo,” or actually maybe more like a purr. She loved being stroked and I could listen to that wonderful sound for hours. Still, she didn’t cry. If she was hungry, she meowed softly. When Arianna began to crawl, she did it with a grace like I have never seen. She moved like a cat, silent as a Ninja! Arianna seemed to love quietly approaching someone and listening to their gasps of “where did she come from?”

Sadly, all that beautiful soft fur fell off when she was about a year old. When she was one, Arianna was walking as well as crawling. Everyone was amazed because she walked on her toes, always. It was just as quiet as her crawling. She would slip around corners and into small places where she would curl up and catnap. She was self possessed for a baby and could entertain herself for hours just playing with a jingle toy or a ball of yarn.

When she was four, she was at our house during a party. My husband found her sitting on the stairs alone, not moving and looking straight ahead. “What are you doing, Arianna?” he asked her. She looked at him somewhat disdainfully and replied, “I’m breathing, Alex.” She just looked at him with her enormous brown eyes and continued “breathing.”

Arianna just turned thirteen. If she resembles anyone, it’s probably Audrey Hepburn. She’s elegant and quiet, except when she’s playful and noisy! Arianna is a talented dancer and moves with the grace of a young feline; she also has a wonderful singing voice. Sometimes when she doesn’t know I’m watching her, she sits in front of the mirror and brushes her long dark brown lustrous hair and just purrs. She’s fascinating, mysterious, and beautiful. My Navajo husband, Alex, has a relative who was an eagle; I have a grand-daughter who is used to be a cat.

1 comment:

  1. What a lovely analogy and what a fun age to enjoy with her.

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