A lonely kitten living deep in the Virginia woods, I yearned for a nurturer to accept my neediness and quirks.
But then there she was, our eyes connected, and we knew. I’d been rescued. “Luray,” Mom dubbed me after the town near where we met. She took me home.
“In Puerto Rico, we were orphan cats too,” Rebel, my new older brother said. “Flying to Maryland was our first time on a plane. It’s a good story.”
“Don’t let him ruin it,” Coqui, his littermate, and now my sister, interrupted. “Have Mom tell you what happened.”
Which she did, typing away with that glaring screen in her lap, and I scowled, jealous I couldn’t curl up there instead. Mom’s memoir was just getting to the juicy part, though—the tale of her quest for a woman. A hunter myself, I knew the thrill of the chase but also the despair of returning home empty-pawed.
A caretaker and self-questioner, Mom’s strengths were also her underbelly. Mine was black and orange striped. Despite her lack of fur, Mom was way more feline than she knew, confident, independent, and a chatty catty like the rest of us.
Nervous, we bit our claws.
Would Mom ever find the love she needed?
About Lee Embers
Lee Embers came out in 1993 at age nineteen while attending The College of William & Mary. Five years later, she followed both her father and grandfather into the federal service, where she’s been a program manager with the U.S. Department of Commerce for nearly twenty-five years.
She currently lives with her wife in Maryland. All three of her cats were adopted on vacation—two from Vieques, Puerto Rico, and one from the mountains near Luray, Virginia—and everyone reminds her now, before trips, that cats are not souvenirs.
In her spare time, Lee enjoys biking, beaching, and traveling.