I realized on Monday that it was the year anniversary of Finding Vani on Ebay. The skittish, timid, only would let me of all people near him cat has come a long way. He still has nightmares and yet now he wants me to hold him after. He has stepped into the role of kitty caregiver very well as Sprite just doesn’t have what it takes as often anymore. She’s getting old and needs more care, Sylvani sees to it that we both are taken care of.

He is sleek, his face is still almost too beautiful to be a real cat’s with those piercing eyes that gleam in spring colors. His legs are thin and graceful, his body long and narrow and his tail is the envy of any cats who spy him through the window.

He still balances curiousity and fear, but he now plays and prances. Since M the carer got herself fired a few months ago he has also been much more comfortable with people. T the carer and he get along very well. He rubs her ankles and mine.

Its been a year and he has adapted much more rapidly than I expected. It took Sprite two years to get with other people beyond myself where he is. I am always special to the cats. That sounds snooty but it is true. There has only been one cat I have met that didn’t like me in a way that it did not like other people. Not William Shakespurr, his anger was brought on by Trauma and even then he still prefered me over people, he just hated us all that much. No idea the cat’s name now but he was very large, and very scary.

While I write this out Sylvani is running around the house staring out the windows. Its his sunrise dance. I think he may be ready to try going outside again. He is curious about it, and he even stuck his nose out the front door recently.

I just wanted to write something happy, without the longing for more tucked away in the Sondheim letter or the general silence.

He’s still an asthmatic, scarred and hurting kitten, but now he’s also on the cups of adulthood. I can see the grown up cat in him. He will grow for another year but his face has reached it’s full maturity. He is a stunning young meow (read it like young man). I will try to get him to pose for pictures soon. He and Sprite both.


Sprite is still dealing with that same sick, the unknown untreatable. We’ve got it down to a science. I just wish Science could cure more things. Ah well, she is happy, I am happy. I am. While things are still rough, that is part of living and I am happy to do just that.

Oh and I get new glasses next week. Bifocals. Will I see two Sylvanis and two Sprites while I adapt? I supposedly WILL see what is on paper again. Discrimination based on age has had me since 21 not having bifocals when I needed them.

I still love my dollies,I have a basket of Ghoulias next to me. Well Sprite’s bed full of Ghoulias but she hasn’t been using it so I absconded with it.  I am still trying to move to the land of Anywhere but Here. I have mishaps to tell you all about and adventures. Even when sick, or more so when sick it seems I cannot stop advocating for a minute. I just want to drift for a single year without some kind of giant battle but, Kat’s claws must remain sharp I suppose.

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