Roomies

I want to introduce you to my roommates, Jewel and Q.

Here's Jewel visiting in my room yesterday morning.

This is Q, making a rare appearance during the day.

Jewel and Q were Los Angeles litter mates, sisters adopted by co-workers Will and Cecilia.  Q, whose real name is Q. C. (short for Quality Control), was named and raised by Will in his minimally furnished bachelor pad in Culver City.

Q helps Will at work on his computer.

Q is possibly the only cat in the history of mankind to play fetch with any piece of crinkly paper or plastic she can find.  And she not only retrieves the treasure when Will throws it, but also actually brings it to him to initiate a game, like a Lab with a tennis ball!  We have video evidence.

Cecilia's Jewel was named for the white diamond on her chest,

and found her home in C's apartment, complete with decorative pillows in all shades of red and yellow.  Jewel is a lover, not a huntress.  She loves Cecilia's lap, and will climb up to perch around C's neck and shoulder like one of those fox stoles that were all the rage in the '30's and '40's.

Sisters became roommates again in LA when Cecilia and Will's relationship bloomed.  Though Q protests the presence of pretty pillows by marking (yes, peeing on) every one of them, the two kitties have a solid place in the hearts of their people.  They've moved from California to Texas in a small cage in the back seat of a Chevy Aveo, shredding a pot plant in protest (and the back of Will's neck) as he drove east on I10.  They've moved from Texas to Brazil, strangely quiet and continent in carriers under the passenger seats of a Delta 767.  And here they are in their newest abode.

Two weeks after I arrived, Jewel finally decided my lap was okay.

Since Cecilia no longer has a lap, the Gringa's will do.

Jewel likes the morning sunshine in my bedroom.

Just soaking it in, before the day gets too hot.

Jewel, beside my bed.

Jewel's not really a skunk,

but she's pretty pesky when I'm trying to do my Bible Study.

Reading about the Galatians . . .

. . . and pondering what she's just learned.

Neither cat showed her face when I arrived.  Both stayed in their favorite spots during the day:  Q in Will's closet, and Jewel under the bed--both in my room.  My roomies were ghosts.  Skulking eyes peered from under the couch, or a slinking figure passed through the kitchen to food, water, and litter box on the back balcony.  A slow blink from across the room or a rub around my legs were the first hints that they might actually accept me.  Now Jewel and I are fast friends.

Q is still standing off, but not too long ago she decided to be the Heidi Klum of felines.  She held court in the living room, begging for the paparazzi.

Some beauty sleep before the session.

Hair and make-up

"Yes, my eyes are the same color as my sofa."

"And my distinct stripe blends beautifully with the sun."

"This is where I like to stay at night--
right next to the floor lamp that attracts those little flittering insects."

On the hunt, Q and her laser-eyed 'wing kitty' Jewel.

Q

Posin'

"Jewel and I know something's going on around here.
We've been kicked out of our bedroom.
And even though we stand at the door and cry all night,
our people won't let us in.
And what's up with that little bed?!
Jewel found out the hard way that it wasn't for her . . .
even though it's just the right size and very comfortable."