My Tale of Devotion for The Whitest of Boys

Lately I've been musing a lot about Luxor, our white, green-eyed Oriental Shorthair. I've been remembering things from when he was a baby, like how fragile his neck seemed, so tiny and vulnerable, like that of a bird. He was so crazy! He'd run straight at a wall and go up it partway, or he'd leap off the cat tree from high up - things like that - and my heart would catch in my throat as I thought, "Oh, that little neck ..."

I'm making it sound as if he's ancient now; he's not. He'll be three years old this coming January. But in a lot of ways he's still like he was as a kitten. Everything excited him. It was as if he woke up thinking, "What new and wonderful thing am I going to experience today?" My bright-eyed boy! He loved/loves to eat. And he would eat anything; he was always interested in some new culinary experience. He'd eat lettuce, or I'd hand him a piece of onion and it was history. He once stole a fried egg off my husband's sandwich when my husband went back into the kitchen for just a minute.

He's an indoor cat (not by choice, certainly), but sometimes we'll take him for a ride in the car because he wants to get out of the house so much. And he peers out the windows with those intense eyes of his, taking everything in, missing nothing.

I just love him. It's hard to describe exactly why. One could say it's because he's funny and entertaining. One could say it's because he's beautiful to look at. But love is more than these superficial things; it goes deeper than that. It's the excitement I feel coming home and seeing him waiting in the window. It's lying down to read a book and feeling him lean against my leg as it it were a pillow. It's of the heart, and hearts, as anyone knows, have minds of their very own.


~ By Elaine, Luxor's Mom