My First Blog Post: Let’s Get Started!

Turns out that setting up a blog isn’t as simple or quick as one might think! But here we are—ready to purr and bark!

Life in California is both expensive and beautiful. The human kids are in their 20s—no longer needing us, yet still needing us all the same. The fur babies? They’re the new generation. We've had two sets of two cats in the past, but this is our first trio! And then there’s our hound—who outlived our second pair of cats but won’t outlive the new three. We also share our home with a Bearded Dragon (a true member of the crew-Gilligan) and a fish tank.

Oh, and we can’t forget the bird and squirrel visitors we feed in our little enclosed yard. Our kittens are endlessly fascinated by them, especially when the old hound dawg chases the squirrels—never catching them, of course.

We both work full-time and are in our 50s—older than most of our colleagues now. Funny how we were "the kids" at work for years, and suddenly, we aren’t. At the same time, we’re far from old. In fact, we've both found the most fulfilling jobs of our careers in the past few years, so retirement isn’t on the horizon just yet.

Despite all the ups and downs over the years, our human kids have thrived, and that feels like one of our biggest accomplishments.

Now, back to the kittens.

• Simba, the alpha, is orange and incredibly smart.

• Mowgli, his sibling, is also orange, strikingly beautiful, and the adventurer of the group.

• Wednesday, our first black cat and the baby of the bunch, is a month younger than the boys. Honestly, I don’t know how we ever lived without her. Black cats are the best—second only to orange cats. 😊

Of course, our hearts are still grieving our previous pair of orange cats—Bolt & Lightning. They both passed within a year of each other, right around Thanksgiving and Día de los Muertos.

Lightning, the biggest orange tabby for miles, fell suddenly ill and passed within days. It broke our hearts. But Bolt... Bolt was different. A mini Maine Coon, smart, full of personality, and incredibly affectionate. A cunning hunter with a playful sense of humor.

His story is harder to tell. One night, some larger predators (coyotes, maybe?) were caught on our Ring camera, initially after a different prey. But Bolt was closer. When we pieced together the in-between frames of the video, the reality hit hard. No collar left behind, no closure—just the overwhelming absence of him.

You know that feeling when you lose someone, and for months afterward, you swear you still see or hear them? That’s us. It’s been five months, and the grief is still fresh.

I dwell on this because Bolt will come up again. He was that cat—the kind who was more like a human in orange fur. He had a sense of humor, an intuitive understanding of when you needed him, and a presence that can never truly be replaced.

Life keeps moving, and so do we—one purr, one bark, and one story at a time. More to come!