Tara-Habby came to Berkeley Place as a kitten, curious and full of, well…serious attitude!
Who would have known this independent, my way or the highway kitty would grow into adulthood with a ‘tude (attitude) of ‘God save the Queen’ (she is the Queen—all others, peasants).
The Hab lived with mom and each respected the others’ routines and weirdness. With mom’s passing, she was confused, normalcy disrupted and left alone for long periods of time in the apartment she shared with a person no longer there.
As I was also going through grief, I felt sorry for Tara-Habby. We bonded as kindred souls missing the one who loved us unconditionally. Not sure if grief is over for her as it isn’t for me.
She’s adapted well to living in a household with three cats, bent on dethroning her reign with a stint in the dungeon ending with a beheading!!! The greyhound she accepted as I believe she thinks dogs are stupid and not worth the stress.
And yes, the greyhound is basically Santa’s Little Helper.
Tara-Habby is a natural born killer of mice. No compassion, no empathy, no nothing…
She’ll taunt and growl as she plays soccer with their precious bods and although I have tried to intervene, she manages to grip the mouse in her mouth, threatening me, sort of like, “If you come one foot closer I’ll off the head”.
She drives me crazy, but alas she is my mother’s cat as I am my mother’s daughter.
Happy New Year Tara-Habby!
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