Gracie Girl

Don't let her expression fool you. She LOVED being a chicken for Halloween.

Jesse and I moved to North Carolina in June, five years ago. Hard to believe we’ve been here that long, hard to believe it was five whole years ago when we packed everything we owned into a U-Haul and a little band of cars and drove along with our parents several states north (and further into the South), just us and Oliver, just us and a bunch of stuff, leaving the state we’d grown up in.

A couple weeks after the move, on Father’s Day, we tried a new church (and didn’t like it) and then went to PetSmart to adopt a cat. We thought it would do Oliver good to have a cat-friend.

We must have been there for hours. We couldn’t find “the one.” We held dozens upon dozens of cats and kittens, squirmy ones and sedate ones, striped ones, white ones, patchwork ones, black ones. Finally, just about ready to give up, we decided to try one more bunch, a little cluster of tuxedo kittens. We selected one and took her to a room where we could set her down and play with her.

We knew almost instantly that she was the one we’d adopt. She was playful but not wild. She was active but would still let Jesse hold her. And she was the cutest little black-and-white fluff ball I do believe I’ve ever seen.

It took us days to decide on a name, but we finally settled on Gracie, from a Ben Folds’ song on an album just released. It fit. Oliver eventually warmed up to her and adopted her as his own, grooming her, disciplining her when he deemed necessary, snuggling with her during naps, sunning with her next to the windows. That summer, she and I took naps together on the couch nearly every morning, and I love the memories of her tiny body resting on my chest.

To share our newest addition with family, I put together this video five years ago. She’s plenty bigger now, but just as fun, just as spunky, just as clumsy.