Surprise at my door...

Last night, I arrived from the 2nd Annual Sisters on the Road Trip to New Brunswick to find a dead cat on my doorstep. It was Twinkles from the house across the street. At first, we thought he was sleeping - he looked so peaceful. I should have known something was wrong when he didn't skeedaddle at the sound of the car pulling into the driveway.

Our house seems to be quite the magnet for neighbourhood cats. I think it has to do with the fact that our lawn - at times - feels like a jungle to them. I watch them as they slowly and carefully make their way through the tall grass, like a tiger on the prowl. Our yard must trigger their primal instincts or something. We don't encourage them to stay in any way, but we don't scare them off either.

A few years ago, a friend who lived with us for a while said we had at least one cat ghost in our house. He had seen it on a few occasions. I believe him. Our house is almost 100 years old - why wouldn't it have a ghost?!

So, although I'm not a cat person myself, I feel kinda honoured that Twinkles chose our front porch as its final destination. Somehow, after being hit by a car (from what we can tell), he found the strength to make his way to my front door. He lay down and didn't get up again.

Here's to you, Twinkles... and feel free to let your spirit roam around my house as much as you like!

Pace e bene,

p.s. I have all kinds of wonderful memories of our Road Trip to NB to share. Stay tuned!