I wake before sunrise. My feet touch the floor and I am ushered to the kitchen by eight cats. Breakfast time. It does not matter there is plenty of food in the dishes. New food is required. The magnificent seven chomp away while the eighth, Tatanka, moves the water dish to a new location. By the time I make tea, the cats have wandered off in various directions, attending to their individual cat projects.

Margret likes to sit with me, watching the morning sunlight pour into the living room. She is fond of a lick of preserves from the crust of my toast as well. We have no idea how she broke her leg. It is not hard to imagine what might have happened. She is the only cat I know that can climb a blank wall. I have a soft place in my heart for Margret. Maybe it is because of the eight cats, I named her. I proclaimed her to be known as Margaret Spider Monkey. Elyse, my wife, calls her Cali.

In the morning still, somewhere between first light and a second cup of tea, together we are Rhettrorocket and Margret Spider Monkey.

Sad Cat Diary