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I woke up in the best possible way. Purring. Ear licking. Air kisses. The full feline gratitude ceremony. The kind that says, without words, thank you for being my human. There are worse ways to start a morning than being chosen by a small creature with whiskers and opinions. Mom is out with my brother at their weekly brunch, so the house is quiet. The calm kind of quiet, not the heavy kind. Yesterday was a little rougher. I got told off at the coffee shop for butting into a conversation that wasn’t mine. Fair enough. Social instincts don’t always...

This morning, Whiskey Kitty chose violence. Not the dramatic kind, just the relentless, pointy-toothed, pounce-and-bite variety that says, wake up, human, the bowl is empty and I am offended. I wanted to sleep in. That was adorable of me to think. Instead, I now have kitty bite marks decorating my wrists like some sort of very small, very judgmental tattoo artist went to town. I dragged myself out of bed earlier than usual and handled the crisis: food, water, peace restored. Or so I thought. Later, while I was cleaning out her litter box, Whiskey decided to crawl right in...

I woke up this morning to a full-scale feline ambush. Whiskey Kitty was in full pounce-and-dart mode, launching herself across the room like a tiny, furry missile. She leapt onto the bed, biting, nibbling, and generally attempting to dismantle me piece by piece. No hesitation. No mercy. Just pure kitten chaos. Which, as it turns out, can only mean one thing: the cat was hungry. It took me a few minutes to orient myself to the day. Eventually, I got up, showered, and fulfilled my duties as the household’s primary food dispenser. I even opened a brand-new bag of kitten...

Today I woke up wrapped in one of those small, perfect moments that feels like a gift you didn’t order. Whiskey Kitty was in full affection mode. Ear licking, air kisses, warm snuggles. No biting, no nibbling, no tiny vampire phase. Just a cat being a soft, purring endorsement of staying alive and paying attention. Later in the day my brother came over, and together with mom worked through some paperwork I needed for my case. Nothing dramatic, just the steady, practical kind of teamwork that used to feel impossible. They also had their own family business to deal with,...

Today was heavy. We had to put down my mom’s cat, Herbie, yesterday. He had too many health problems stacked against him: kidney issues, diabetes, the whole unkind medical parade. He’d been with my mother since my father passed in 2010, a quiet, furry constant through grief, routine, and time. That kind of companionship doesn’t announce itself loudly, but when it’s gone, the room notices. He will be remembered. He will be missed. 🐾 Court, thankfully, went OK. Not great, not terrible. Just OK. In the world of court, OK is a small mercy. The reality, though, is that I...