Sunday with Darcy

Can’t believe it’s been a year! I wanted to write more about the cat, then I saw this.

I was planning on writing this really (strangely) long post about just two things: how much I love Sundays, and how much I love my almost dog-like cat. Then I logged on to my Wordpress account, and discovered that today was my one-year anniversary with this blog

I know, I know, there are posts on here going back to 2004/05, but they are from LiveJournal (yep, I was there too) copied over and archived here for posterity (and to remind me how weird I have always been), so WordPress doesn’t count them as anything more than a single event.

So, ‘And another thing’ is a year old today, and I am celebrating the fact I have managed to, sort of, keep it up. It’s amazing to read back through older posts and see how prophetic some of them were, and how much happened in a relatively short period of time.

Of all the things that happened to me last year very few were good, but of the few things that were getting Darcy was definitely the top of that list.

Over the last few months she’s really been developing her personality; she’s incredibly sure of herself, assertive, adventurous, and stupid as anything (she loves high places but once she gets up she can’t get down, she will never understand how windows work, and has a tendency to somehow shut herself in rooms). Just this morning she’s exhausted herself playing fetch (just like a dog) and given me a really good laugh by scrambling frantically to get into the top cat bed on her large cat tree.

Darcy was my saving grace while I was unemployed; had I not had her to cuddle when I got the sort of rejections that would make anyone cry then I would probably not have bothered even getting dressed in the morning (it wouldn’t have even reached the list as I wouldn’t have bothered getting up).

Right now the princess is sleeping in the sunlight while I watch another weekend of Buffy (I am loving the 20th Anniversary Syfy stuff), though I have no doubt if I dare to move in the direction of my bedroom to get dressed so I can get lunch, she’ll wake quicker than anything.

This is the thing I have discovered about ragdolls, they find their person and follow them forever. Darcy found her person in me, and I love it (though the strange habit she has of poking her head through the leg of my underwear when I am in the bathroom is more than a little disturbing).

This is how I spend every evening:


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