Only Kitty

When Professor Remus John Lupin came into our lives, he was the youngest of four kitties. Big bad Peanut was outside most of the time, and when he came in he would take nothing from Remus. Yang avoided him as much as possible, and Yin wasn't much fun to hide from and pounce on, so R.J. Lupin slept a lot, ate the cheese Aunt Cyndie fed him and grew that famous Mozzarelly Belly we know and love.

In 2005 Peanut went to live with my parents at their mountain cabin in Georgia. In 2008 Yang died. As long as Yin was alive, ReLu had to be fed in a separate room and kept there until Yin was finished eating - otherwise Remus would eat her food then his. Yin was always underweight, so we kept a good supply of dry food in a bowl for her to munch between feedings - which kept Remus' mozzarelly belly in full bloom. Now that Yin is no longer with us, the perfesser is on a diet! He doesn't much like it either. He howls at me to put down dry food between meals, and I put down ten or twelve nuggets. He looks at me with a puzzled, contemptuous expression.

It's been over a week since Yin did any eating. I've been feeding Remus "where the white kitties eat" this whole time, but he still goes to his quarantine room door when I set out to feed him. Critter of habit.

Sometimes he howls for no apparent reason, and we have to wonder if he's grieving for Yin. After all, she was good for a pounce and roll every now and again, or a game of "under the door" or "the chair game." And they often shared the sunshine streaming in through the back doors in Albuquerque and here. I'm certain he misses her.

He has never been an only child before, taking the brunt of both of our affections. But he seems to be getting used to it.