Today marks a full year since we brought Pippin home.
She was born sometime in 2015, so that's why you see that question mark in the lower left corner.
Her original owner had sadly passed away, and her owner's family already had two cats with whom "Lily" (that's what they called her back then) didn't get along too well. So, they thought of us and asked us if we'd like to have her, since she was very sweet; most importantly, she was litterbox-trained.
At first, I was afraid it was too soon, since it had barely been two months since Butterscotch's death and Butterscotch had been around for half my life. Really, we got him as a month-old kitten when I was 16 and he lived to see 16.
Now I can tell you I wouldn't trade Pippi for anything. Her name was my idea this time, and I got it from Pippi Longstocking and Pippin in Lord of the Rings. She was the definite highlight of 2020.
It took a little time and patience, as anyone would expect. She was pretty aloof at first, all growly and hissy. She even scared my poor niece to death the first time she saw her.
Now she'll jump into our laps when we're relaxing on a chair or couch (something Butterscotch never did), curl up beside us on our beds (she alternates between my bed and Mom's bed), raise her head higher when she's getting petted, and most of the time, she comes running when we call her. She'll even let me rub her tummy on occasion, something cats and dogs will only let happen when they feel 100% safe.
Linus van Pelt's (slightly modified) words ring true: "I never thought she was such a bad little kitty. She's not bad at all, really. Maybe she just needs a little love."
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