I hope that Spring has Sprung wherever this finds you! Today’s blog is dedicated to all those people (and their families) who work in service of their country, city, and/or community.
Chapter 12—Holiday Time, Happy Time
Except for Lolly, everyone called Lolly’s mom Lita. Lolly and Lita had the same name—Lolita. Grandma Brown distinguished them by calling my little girl Lolly, and her daughter Lita. There were many people who wanted to visit with Lita over the holidays. Everyone in the neighborhood stopped by to visit with Lita, even Pops and Bailey. Bailey was very excited to be inside our house. She kept smacking her lips and wagging her tail. I don’t think she was ever in a house that smelled as good as ours. Grandma Brown laughed at Bailey and all her fidgeting. I guess Santa didn’t leave a whole lot for Bailey because Grandma Brown gave Pops a bunch of left-overs, and Bailey a whole tub of bones and meat scraps. Bailey’s tail wagged so hard she couldn’t sit down.
The holidays were such a happy time. I don’t ever remember seeing my Lolly so happy. She smiled, played, and laughed almost non-stop. Lita was not quite like Lolly or Grandma Brown. She was tall, fair and much less chatty. Both Lolly and Grandma Brown were chatty, shorter, and had darker features. Often Lita would just sit calmly with a slight grin as she listened to her mom. She was more than happy to do all the listening while her mom did all the talking. Similarly with Lolly, Lita would just hang out with Lolly and me as we played. She would listen as Lolly talked, and every now and again she would wink at me and give me a gentle scratch behind my ears. There was a kind of sadness, or seriousness about Lita that neither Lolly nor Grandma Brown had. She would watch Lolly play, and while I am no expert, it just seemed as if she wished she could just find a way to join Lolly and me while we played.
One night, while Lolly was having a bath, I sat with Lita. I purred for her just to let her know how much I appreciated the way she made my Lolly smile and laugh. So far, I saw very little evidence that suggested Lita took after her mom when it came to talking to cats. Talking to cats is not a gift everyone has after all. So, instead of making any assumptions, I resorted to the most universal language I know—purring. Lita seemed surprised by how loudly I could purr and chuckled, “Oh my! You sure got your motor running!”
Lita had a great laugh, it was like Grandma Brown’s chuckle, and Lolly’s belly laugh all rolled into one. It had the power to make an orange guy feel really special. I couldn’t help myself, and I purred even louder. Lita laughed some more and then she started talking to me. She told me about how young she was when she became Lolly’s mom. For her it was a very stressful and confusing time. She told me how her mom, Grandma Brown, helped her by taking care of Lolly. Lita wanted to work closer to Grandma Brown and Lolly, but because of something she called “circumstances beyond my control” she just wasn’t able to do so. It made her sad, but she felt it was better for Lolly that she live with Grandma Brown. I listened and Lita spoke. I figured it was the least I could do considering how carefully and patiently she listened to Grandma Brown these past few days. Lita told me all kinds of stuff—most of which I have to admit I didn’t understand—however, it felt good just to be able to listen to her. She scratched my ears and told me that I was a “good little confidante”. She also asked me for a favor: to take good care of Lolly. As far as I was concerned this was done, done and done—but I just gave her a super sonic purr followed by a whisker kiss. In the world of cats that is better than a human handshake.
Lita only stayed for a few days longer, and then she had to go back to something called “work”. From what I could tell, it really wasn’t too terribly different from Lolly’s school. Sure, Lita dressed a little differently—something Grandma Brown called a “uniform—but like Lolly, Lita had some kind of school bag called a “ruck sack”. This ruck sack was huge! It could have fit a couple of Bailey’s let alone an orange guy like myself! I was not too keen to investigate Lita’s stuff as she packed—I had more important things to worry about. My little girl was terribly upset. I am not sure, but it almost seemed as if Lolly was mad at her mom. Lolly cried and raged until her face was red, and she could barely breathe. She stomped her feet to her room and slammed the door. I would have been locked out of my girl’s room if Grandma Brown hadn’t quietly opened the door for me.
I sat on the edge of Lolly’s bed and purred my best purr. It seemed to have no effect on my girl—she still cried and raged. She wanted her mom to stay with her and Grandma Brown. As much as Lolly loved her life at Grandma Brown’s, she missed her mom very much. Lita’s Christmas visit wasn’t nearly long, nor permanent enough for Lolly’s liking. My little girl was in pain, and the only thing I could do was purr and listen, and perhaps hope that Lolly would calm down enough to have one last chance to visit with her mom before she left.