My Girl

I was just reading (at random) some old blog posts from the first few months of the LPB's existence. A couple of observations: Damn, I was constantly sick in England! Sniffles, cold sores, etc. Also, I really missed my girl.

The picture above was taken on December 12, 1999. My parents surprised me with a 3-month-old Torbie Terror the day before finals week. My life has never been the same--it's been better. The shelter people called her Punky Brewster. Cute, but not my ideal name for this little girl. The Y2K scare/craze was going on, and even though 2001, not 2000, would mark the start of the new millennium, I had to name her Millennium. "Joy" was added as a middle name a few days later, in honor of the holiday season.

She's rarely called Millennium. She's really just Millie, Millikins, Baby Girl, or Millie Joyful. Sometimes Millie Vanilli. My friend Summer can get away with calling her Millicent.

That first afternoon, after Mom and Dad left my apartment, Millie and I settled in on the sofa. I stretched out and she napped on my chest. That night, she slept on my chest in bed. A train roared by outside--I lived maybe 100 yards from the tracks. I was used to the cacophony, and Millie would later become used to it, too. But that first night, the poor little thing was terrified.

We settled into a life together. She broke stuff, and woke me up several nights during finals week. I said, "I'm giving you back!" Then I cried. There was no going back. She's my girl.

Millie and I have been inseparable since--except for that year I spent in England. I had to go--there was no turning down that kind of opportunity. But oh, how I missed my girl. If I hadn't had Mom and Dad to take care of her (which they did happily and without complaint), I never would have gone.

One of the biggest factors in my decision to come back to the US (besides job stress, lack of money and other grown-up stuff) was the simple fact that there was no way to bring Millie to the UK without major hassle. In the end, I didn't want to miss her life just to satisfy my wanderlust. Home is where the heart is, and Millie commands a very large piece of my heart.

In looking back over the last 15 years, it's become apparent to me that I've always struggled with stress, anxiety and depression. It was Antioch that brought it all to a head for me, and it was there where I finally talked to a doctor about it. But I've always had my Millie-girl to keep me grounded. The very worst day--the kind that finds me bursting into tears when I step through the front door--can be made better simply by cuddling her warm, purring body to my own. She never objects.

She is so much more than a cat. Some people understand this, others don't.

Anyway, I'm just feeling sentimental tonight. Millie is having a serious nap in the Sweet Spot, curled up in a perfectly round little ball. Just looking at her makes me happy.

Of course, there's Harley, my court jester, class clown, my Baby Boy and Doodlebug. He'll get his own post sometime. I adore him, of course, but the bond I have with him isn't as long-term as the bond I have with Millie.

Perfect little ball.

Another early one--this is probably from 2000, early 2001 at the latest. A long-time favorite of both Mom and I. I have a framed copy in my classroom.

I call this one "Purrsonality." You can just see it in her bright eyes and confident posture.

She's a seasoned traveler--much better about it than Harley.