Today is the Fourth Annual Finding Jaina Day
Just over four years ago, the vets at a certain chain vet clinic which will shall remain unamed told us that this little stray Birman kitten we found in the parking lot had less than six months to live. I named her Jaina for her fighting spirit. Four years later, she’s still at large, and in charge.
It has been a momentus year for The Cat Who Lived. She’s moved to a new house, which she likes very much.
She has gained a new “sibling”, another stray we picked up named Butterscotch (a “ginger” if that matters to you).
Then she picked up another new “sibling” named Morgan, a kitten that also had no home. She hates them both, of course, as she hates all other cats, so that’s nothing new.
Her biggest adventure this year was a visit to the vet’s for a checkup and nail trimming. The ruckuss she raised when the trimming came up was so powerful that the vetinary tech NOPED right outta there when the vet showed up for the exam, and never came back. She’s a very fearsom 10 pounds of fluff and anger, and we still lover her very much.
Our little kitten has become somewhat more sociable, but only on her terms. On chilly nights I may wake up with her plopped up against my back. If I turn around to face her, she’s gone. But it’s a start.
Every year we have with The Cat That Lived is a year that we were told that would not have. I treasure every day with this cantankerous, rowdy, antisocial, bearcat kitten of mine. Who needs boring when one can have the excitement of living with Jaina? Totes worth it, y’all.