The sun shone in just long enough this morning to catch Mewsette watching me in the kitchen.
Her brothers are much more camera-savvy than she is; in fact, Mewsette is about as un-selfconscious as a cat can be, so I know she’s never posing.
When Mewsette was a kitten I remember thinking she was slightly strange because she was so distant, spending the entire day in the basement earning her nickname “Basement Cat”, never asking for affection though she never turned it down. Perhaps it was the contrast with her needy brothers, but also in those days Mimi, her mom, was still in her “I’m not going to get attached to this” phase and I thought Mewsette had just inherited that trait from her mom.
Then when she was ready, at about 18 months, she began following me around and talking to me, purring and tenderizing my hand or my arm kneading with her big paws and trimmed claws. Now we have head butts and nose-taps—both of us, as she apparently thinks I’m some big hairless cat—and I’ll catch her sitting to watch me with this very intent expression when I’m standing up at my work in the kitchen or in my studio.
And she has grown quite beautiful, big and husky, fuzzy thick fur and very rounded features, perfectly round green, green eyes and long, graceful whiskers like waterfalls on either side of her face. My big “Mousse”, a sweet and gentle girl.
I’ve also always loved to look at their eyes when their pupils were just like a single thread holding a button onto their fur.