Please celebrate Ginger's 20th birthday with me.
I don't know exactly when she was born, but sometime in May, 1986. She was one of a litter of three, born in the bushes near my home to a stray calico who later found a good home with my boss. I didn't know anything about feral cats, and the kittens were feral, and no-one had good advice to give me. After I trapped them and brought them inside, I let them have the run of the house so it took years for them to really tame. For the first 17 years of her life, Ginger would peer up at me out of the corner of her eyes while I massaged her shoulders and I knew she viewed me as some kind of monster. Then she changed when she became an old lady and decided that it was really very nice to lie beside me, and then on me, and now she lies in my arms like a baby.
I hope I look this glossy and clear-eyed when I'm in my 90's. (Excuse the dirty eye, I clean them every day.)
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