So the dawn has actually come and gone, but whatever.

The house has felt ridiculously quiet since Dante’s been gone. I keep thinking I see him out of the corner of my eye, but of course there’s nothing there when I turn.

Stormy hasn’t been doing well. Dante was there for her entire life, and now he’s not. She cries when I leave the room, even if I’m just going into the kitchen or the bathroom. She knows I’m there, but is still getting upset like she’s been abandoned.

Leaving for a week to go to Victoria for Christmas probably didn’t help the situation. When I booked the trip, she wasn’t alone. She was going to have Dante with her.

Sigh.

She needs a friend. Or two. I wasn’t planning to do this for a while, because to be honest I’m still mourning Dante. But after five days of her wandering the house at night sounding so lost and alone it broke my heart to hear, I reached out to a local animal rescue and have adopted a pair of kittens.

They are boys, both black, about 14 weeks old. I’d seen them on the rescue’s FB page back in October and figured they’d get snapped up, but no one wanted them.

Maybe they were waiting for me and Stormy?

They are currently living in the spare room and are slowly getting acclimatized. The smaller of the two let me pet him without darting away and even gave me purrs. The bigger one — who is gong to have the grumpiest face I can already tell — is not flinching as much but still pulls away and hides the most.

Stormy knows they’re there… she gives the room a hiss every now and then and did a little growl when I showed her the little one… but she didn’t cry nearly as much that first night. She even trilled a little.

That gives me all the hope.

After much deliberation and consultation with stupid articles about what to name black cats, I’m decided on their new names.

The smaller one is mischievous and loves attention, his name is Loki.

The larger one has the most serious face I’ve ever seen on a kitten that I have no choice but to call him Sirius. It’s either that or a name befitting a human accountant.

And before anyone makes a comment about it, fuck TERFs, and fuck JK Rowling and all her TERF-ness. She doesn’t own the name of the brightest star in the sky.

I will update on how the introductions with Stormy goes down.

-A.