L is for Lucien

Lucien : hedged paths

Sometimes cats find you.  We got Lucien for my husband, a 22 toed foster kitten from the first batch of the ’09 season at work.  The youngest of our 4, everyone loved him immediately.  Over the last few years this little cuddle ninja became my constant companion.  I am a different thing to each of my animals.  Our border collie Poe sees me as the fearless leader.  Crowley, A Black Cat who did not so much Fall as Saunter Vaguely Downwards into our lives, views me as the twice daily food dispenser as I see him as the twice daily food alarm system.  Elphie is my familiar, my oldest, and we share a mutual understanding that I’ve never felt with another animal.  But Lucien is my little squishy monster who suddenly appears next to me where ever I land.  We laugh that he must be my husband’s familiar because of how devoted he is to me.  A lot of us who do rescue joke that we just want one normal one, Lucien is my good boy.  He’s never had a litter box problem, always sits for diner, comes when called, and only bites when provoked.  He shows me the magic of the human-animal bond with his charms everyday as he reaches out with his giant paws to show me he loves me.

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