Girl

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Oh, how we love our basement cat. Although she’s still a scaredy-cat, she certainly makes it known when she wants a little lovin’. She’s not quite ready to jump on our laps, but she’ll come right up next to us, as long as we’re sitting still, with no TV on, and soak up all the attention we’ll give her. She rolls onto her back, showing us her belly like she’s finally relaxing a bit, but if either Tim or I makes a sudden movement, she’s still quick to run for cover.

I’m not sure what her aversion to the television is, but she wants no part of being in any room where one might be on. She is a fan of music, though, especially the yacht rock station. Christopher Cross and other mellow tunes seem to be her thing… embracing the ’70s vibe right along with me.

She really is a beautiful cat, with super-soft fur and the sweetest disposition. Now if she could just fully relax and realize she’s safe. Although I’m patient with her, I’ll admit I’m anxious to see how far she comes over the next year or two. I have a feeling someday she’ll settle in, relax a little more, and realize she’s okay, even with us moving around or company coming over.

I can’t imagine her living out on the streets alone, cold, wet, hungry. No wonder she’s on watch all the time after such a scary start to life. And although the rescue saved her, living in a cage for nine months couldn’t have been much fun either.

Our sweet girl is safe now, dry, warm, fed, and with the entire house to explore, with both Tim and me waiting patiently for her to fully embrace her new digs.

As for her name, I can’t say either of us has used “Gypsy” since she arrived. We both just call her “Girl.” Not that it’s a particularly great name, but it’s what we say, and it seems to be sticking.

After all, she’s our girl.

“Patience is not simply the ability to wait—it’s how we behave while we’re waiting.” ~ Joyce Meyer