Memories are Magic Dust

I happily lost many hours of my life at the cat pens: but they are not lost, they are diamonds in my hands as memories sift through them. 2002, so long ago but so near in clear recall. Pip and Lucky, coaldust black kittens with rare jewels for eyes. How I loved them, they reminded me so much of my childhood cat Emily. They were playful but not mad with mischief as some kittens are; theirs was a contained adventure, timid paws patting the raw delight of life.

Lucky survived to live his cat’s tale; Pip passed away soon after rehomed, I believe it was a car accident but could be wrong. I hope her days at the pens filled her short life with the love and affection she so deserved; happy memories to be with her in the everafter.

 

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