Thursday, November 3, 2011
d can only be for Dovey
One year ago this weekend Dovey began her great farm adventure. She is the single reason why I have the strength and courage to stay here on our ridgemeadow farm on my own.
Dovey is a full throttle, no holds barred, all or nothing feline. She chases, catches and devours with relish almost any bug she can find, though she's learned that Asian Lady Beetles should be left alone. Every window needs to be clear of obstacles so she can perch at will and monitor all activity beyond the glass.
She loves to lend her paw to any project I'm working on.
She will literally get in my face while I'm on the computer to get my attention.
Most nights she's curled up around my legs while I'm sleeping and accompanies me to the bathroom no matter how often I need to visit there. Her favorite toy is the inside plastic ring of a Scotch tape dispenser and she will chase, hunt, catch and return it or leap to try to catch it in mid air. She is ready to initiate these games numerous times of day, or night... If I don't put this "toy" away at bedtime, she may drop it on me as I sleep or I may step on it next to the bed in the night, or worse, on the stairs going down to the bathroom in my bare feet. Not pleasant nocturnal activities, and so I usually try to show her I'm putting it in the drawer at bedtime. She actually will sit under that drawer in the morning and ask to play. I've tried to teach her that when there are others in the house we don't start playing until everyone is up. She seems to know this now. If you ever visit, and you come down in the morning and find Dovey sitting under the drawer farthest left on the buffet, she's asking you to play.
She's in a bit of a hurry when using her littler box, not thorough and fastidious like her pal Mya. But she is a remarkable groomer. Her white is very white and she always smells so clean. She's what Anne calls a loud licker. You can hear her grooming from across the house. Her purring, on the other hand, is very understated. Not rumbling and boistrous, but soft and unmistakable when she's decided to climb up on my lap, put her paws up on my chest and snuggle. This is a little ritual of hers, after dinner while I'm crocheting in front of a movie borrowed from the library. She'll jump up beside me, look at me as if to say "Move that stuff!" and when I clear my lap she moves in. A little bit of heaven for the both of us for as long as she's willing to sit still.
She knows when I'm feeling unwell, blue, lonely. At those times she postpones her own agenda and keeps me in sight offering herself in whatever way seems best.
As hard as she plays, she has the enviable ability to turn off and go into a deep sleep in a blink.
Mya can see into my soul. Dovey knows every contour of my heart.