When I shared my story of how I met Lilly, in my very first “Furry Recollections”, I only told you how we met, now I want to share the rest of the story…
When Lilly adopted my family in October of 2009, she quickly made herself at home. She didn’t bother with the slow introductions of joining an established critter family, she instead walked in, hissed at everyone and curled up on my lap to sleep. As a torti cat will usually do, Lilly chose one human in our family to devote herself to — she chose me. She began to follow me everywhere I went, even if it was just from my desk to the kitchen and straight back again — always at my heels. At night when I would go upstairs for bed she would follow along and stay with me the entire night until I woke the next morning. When I would leave the house, even for a few hours, she became a rather unhappy torti.
Lilly sleeps ON me every night. Not beside me or against me but on my stomach or stretched down my legs, every night. (Lucky for her I sleep propped-up against pillows!) I have grown so accustomed to the feeling of her small body curled upon mine as we sleep, she feels as light as a feather but when I’m away from home and must try to sleep without her, that tiny bit of missing weight feels more like a ton. The entire room feels empty.
I’ll sometimes even wake during the night at home, feeling that Lilly is gone from my lap. I usually discover she’s made a trip to “the little girl’s box” or is having a snack but, always returning to her “Mommy Bed” when her midnight break is over.
From the very first moment we found each other, I knew that Lilly and I had a special link (a connection). I truly feel I know what Lilly is trying to say or how she feels and she always knows how I feel, her emotional responses showing me. One night, not long after we met, I learned that our bond would soon fuse even stronger than I could imagine.
Less than four weeks after Lilly had adopted her new family, I became sick late one night. I have furry (ha ha) memories of that night but I do clearly remember Lilly pacing back and forth on my bed, mewing a sad cry while placing her face against mine.
I tried my best to calm her but it did little to help. Made even more upset by watching me leave in an ambulance, Hubs said he could only stroke her fur as she stood in the bay window, distraught from watching Mommy being taken away.
After returning home, Lilly attached herself to me more than ever before, not letting me out of her sight and hardly allowing me out of bed. She was my little nurse; always at my side or on my lap with her purrs or rubbing my face with hers, a regimen of “Lilly Love.” I may have needed medications for my body to recover from my ailment but I believe it was Lilly’s love and purrs that made me feel better.
In my house my bedroom is referred to as the “royal chambers”; nothing at all to do with me, it began so Lilly could get away from the mean boys. She has her own private bathroom and she has her own dining room, complete with a “Princess” food dish. I also had a locking cat-door installed in the bedroom door so Lilly (and now Gracie) could come and go on their own by wearing the little magnetic “keys” on their collars.
I began calling Lilly my “Little Princess” or “Mommy’s Princess” after she nursed me back to health because despite the fact that she had been “dumped” by her previous human(s) and clearly has fears and issues as a result of being with the previous human(s), Lilly has the sweetest, most loving heart of any cat I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. She deserves to be a “Princess.” My little Princess Lilly.