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1/29/1999 Amber9:20 a.m. I started off the day with a bowl of parmesan polenta. Polenta appeals to me more than oatmeal for breakfast these days; I don't know why. It is simple to make in the microwave. For one portion, mix one cup of water into 1/4 cup cornmeal and half a teaspoon of salt in a microwave-safe bowl. Microwave uncovered at high for 1 min., 40 sec. Add two tablespoons grated parmesan cheese, mix thoroughly, and microwave covered for 1 min., 40 sec. Remove, stir, and allow to cool for a few minutes before attempting to eat. 7:20 p.m. Tab is giving the twins a bath right now. Daniel is playing a computer game, and I am here in the living room watching Amber. Amber is the third of our cats. After Tab's cat, Gizmo, died, we were down to two cats: Max, our big orange Maine Coon, and F/X, our sleek, all-black cat. If we had wanted more cats, we could have had dozens by now; Tab's crazy cousin has become an animal-rescue nut and is always retrieving animals from the pound before they are destroyed and trying to place them in homes. Given our small house, we decided not to adopt any more cats. We never expected a cat would choose to adopt us. Flashback to June 4, 1998. It's a beautiful summer day. The twins and I set out for a morning walk. We've gone less than half a block, when a small orange missile streaks across the street, heading directly for us. Matthew flees, shrieking, into a driveway. The little orange cat playfully chases him. I bend down to pet the cat, who responds with surprising affection. Most of the strays around here are feral, but this half-grown cat seems used to people. She's very thin and must be hungry, so I tell the kids we're going to get some food for her. She follows us to the house and is still waiting on the porch when I return with a bowl of dry food and a bowl of water. She seems to be as starved for attention as she is for the food. She allows me to pick her up, and she purrs and tries to suck on my wrist as I pet her. I think she must have been taken away from her mother too early and is trying to recapture the nursing experience. We leave her to the food and continue our walk. I can't stop thinking about the cat and what a short, sad life she'll have out on these streets. She'll be pregnant within a few months, no doubt, and will likely be injured in cat fights. Or hit by a car. Or, worse yet, her friendly nature will make her an easy target for some young sociopath-in-training. I once stopped a little boy, not much older than Daniel, who was poking a stick at a cat hiding under a porch, and Jean told me she caught some other kids throwing stones at cats a few months ago. I start toying with the idea of keeping the cat. I know Tab won't like the idea, but I think if he could only see her--how affectionate she is and how good with the boys--he would relent. I decide that if she is still at our porch when we come home, I'll bring her in to the house. We turn the final corner onto our block. I'm racing now, to see if the cat is on the porch. I hurry the boys along down the street. She's gone. Disappointed, I try calling for her, "Here, kitty, kitty!" And she comes! Running from across the street, the orange tabby comes home. We have our third cat. She is needle-thin, with ears that look too big for her small, triangular face, but her eyes are beautiful. Instead of the pale yellow-green color of our other cats' eyes, this cat has deep golden eyes, like pieces of amber. She is extremely affectionate and fearless around the boys. Even Tab, though at first reluctant to take in a stray, is won over. We only planned to have two children, but we ended up with three, I remind him; it seems fitting that we end up with three cats, too. The vet gives her the necessary shots, a flea treatment and deworming pills. Except for her parasites and thinness, she is heathy. He estimates she is about six months old, so I give Amber my sister Monica's birthday, Dec. 4. Within days, Amber has established herself as queen of the house. She regularly attacks the other two cats with a playful fierceness that has startled them out of the complacency of feline old-age. She always wants to be around people, and does not run from the twins' enthusiastic attentions. At night she sleeps in Daniel's bed, keeping him company until he falls asleep. She is the boys' cat, the way Max is my cat and F/X is Tab's. She'll be the pet of their childhood, the one they'll say goodbye to when then go off to college and happily greet when they return home.
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