Cinnamon Love

Cinnamon is a Siamese cat, about 35 years old, and still in pretty good shape considering.  She belongs to my youngest daughter who would carry her around and tell her secrets and generally love up on her.  She was never treated badly and spent most of her life either sleeping on the bed or being carried around by her owner.  After my daughter grew up and grew tired of having 'stuffed animals' Cinnamon was relegated to a carboard box. 

Then 10 years ago she moved into West Virginia and had the run of the house - so to speak.  The loft bed was her kingdom and she only had to share with a slightly tattered Koala Bear and her baby.  The older grandchildren are boys and when they came up to West Virginia they relegated her to the floor or maybe if she was lucky she got to sit on the ledge looking out over the family room.

Ashby changed everything.  He took a liking to her and she became his dining companion.  Ashby doesn't like to eat alone, he likes to bring a friend to all of his meals, especially dinner.  This however is where the story of Cinnamon love starts a new chapter.  This chapter is about how a boy loves Cinnamon. 

Here is a snapshot of dinner with Ashby and Cinnamon.  All starts out generous - Ashby shares his blueberries and his mac & cheese and chicken. And we talk.  I talk for Cinnamon, Ashby of course holds up his end of the conversation.  He asks politely if Cinnamon would like a blueberry and of course Cinnamon says thank you.  After many offerings and thank you's, Ashby begins using the plastic bug catching tweazers that he is now using to pickup up his blueberries one at at time, and he plucks out her eye.  Looking at me he says, make her cry.  That means I make a little wimper and then snuggle Cinnamon up in my arms and pat her and say there, there, it will be alright. Cinnamon is a brave cat, so back she goes to dinner only to have her tail pinched and her feet plucked and her nose bopped.  Many pats and loves later (for Cinnamon), the tweazers decide to do good works,  Ashby removes splinters from her head and her nose even one from her eye.  By now dinner is almost done and Cinnamon is again relegated to an evening snoozing on the table or floor in the living room. 

Dinner is never going to be the same without someone to share it with!  And I am always amazed at how quickly Ashby can move a conversation from one idea to the next, changing fixed objects into multiple new ideas.  Poor Cinnamon now she sits on the table waiting to be carried back up to her perch where she gets to wait again for some little boy love to arrive and love her into life.