We had not intended to get a new cat. Not this soon.
For me, the loss of Nova was still so raw that the idea of adopting any new cat felt like a betrayal of her memory and all the joy she’d brought us. Like an ungrateful dismissal of a near-decade of blessing.
But this past Friday, my mom received a text.
See, my family has an unofficial Cat Network. None of us actually try to find cats, but cats find us, and together we get the cats to the places where they need to be.
In keeping with family tradition, my cousin’s boyfriend found an abandoned kitten on one of his construction sites. Cousin then went to rescue kitten … much to the surprise of her mom, who declared “You’re not getting ANOTHER cat!” (Cousin already has two, from similar origins. It’s A Whole Thing. )
But cousin had A Plan, and picked up her phone.
“I know it’s soon, but …”
It was soon. I told mom I’d think on it, and perhaps meet the kitten the next day since I was going to be in town anyway.
Then I showed Jacob the text.
We visited the cat that very evening.
And, well, you see the result.
The thing is, y’all, this cat’s absurd.
He cuddles.
He flops for scratches.
He squeaks.
He carries on conversations.
And he loves on sight.
There is so much of Nova in this random abandoned kitten that his every move makes me cry in her memory.
But it’s a happy cry now, because it feels like she had some part in sending him. Like she couldn’t bear to see us sad, even from her next life, and did what she could to help.
We named him in Nova’s honor, after the Dazzling Skies through which she fell.
Meet our new blessing, Dazzle.