Today marks nine years since the day my parents gave me the best Christmas surprise EVER--a little Calico tabby kitten.
"Her shelter name is Punky Brewster," my mom told me as I squealed in delight. "But you can call her whatever you want."
It was December 1999, and though everyone debated the true start of the new millennium (it was, in fact, 2001), Millennium seemed an appropriate name for my little baby cat. The Y2K scare was going strong and some people were stockpiling, anticipating massive problems when the computers made the switch from 1999 to 2000.
Millie and I hardly noticed. We were too busy settling into life as Owner and Human. She drove me bananas those first few nights--I thought I'd never sleep again! But over time, we settled into a routine, and my Millie-girl has been a constant companion and wonderful friend since. She is truly one of the coolest cats on the planet--I may be biased, but it's true!
Of course, this week I rocked her world by adopting a second feline into my heart and home. I adore my little dude, but nothing can upset the bond I have with Millie. This is a bond that survived my year in England--a time when hearing my voice on the phone made her purr, and mail sent from me to my parents was often sniffed with particular intensity. A bond resumed in August 2005, when my sweet little girl welcomed me home with cuddles, purrs, after a little bit of that initial "I'm ignoring you!! You LEFT me!!!" The ONLY reason I was ever able to leave her in the first place was because Mom and Dad were happy to look after her.
I hope for many more anni-fur-saries with Millie. She is still spry and healthy, and I can hardly believe nine years have flown by so fast. Today I raise a toast (Dr. Pepper for me, tuna juice for her) to my sweet Millennium Joy. And I give my heartfelt thanks to Dad for picking a winner--and realizing that I needed a companion to care for in the first place.