It’s two years tonight since I brought MasterB home on the train. I wrote about it here. He was called Facebook then, and my guess is he features on innumerable pages. I didn’t really want him, but the next morning having left him alone with his flea infestation in the bathroom, I was surprised how anxious I was to get back to him. I didn’t love him, but I was concerned about him.
How things change. They say the worst part of grieving lasts two years. I have grieved for Cat, and maybe MasterB has grieved for the students who loved him and saved him from the streets. Gradually my love for my ginger ninja has grown, and now I can honestly say, hand on heart, that I love him as much as I loved Cat. He is a very different character and that’s great too.
People say animals don’t love you. Maybe animals say humans don’t love them. MasterB shows me increasing affection; wants to be with me; rolls over on his back when I come home; head butts me gently; purrs when I speak to him. It’ll do. Believe me, it’ll do.