When the automatic doors parted, we stopped in our tracks as if we were witnessing the most powerful spectacle of our lives. It was a little gray kitten sitting in a cage that looked similar to our Olive (who we were simply planning to buy food and toy mice for that evening). We didn’t know we were going to bring her home a little brother, but we did.
Ivan is easily the most emotionally expressive cat I’ve ever known – complete with tantrums and a full rapporteur of sighs that mean different things, and affectionate eye winks that let us know that he’s not just using us for catnip and toys. He is Olive’s baby, Matthew’s clown, and my guardian who studies me as if I am the most interesting person in the world even when I watch television…though I usually end up having a winking contest with him instead of watching the actual show. He has trained me well.