Blustery wind gales, accompanied by Rice-Krispie-like snappling of sleety teensy hail-nuggets, assaulted our front porch.  Wicker furniture, evoking pleasant sunny summer memories, squeaked forlornly out of sync with a perturbed, ferocious mood-swing of Mother Nature. Motion-lights highlighted confused weather patterns which scooted planters hither, thither, and yon.

Pajama-clad, I groggily approached the front door, opened it and viewed, amidst all of the unleashed furor, a handsome tabby-tomcat sporting a white bib — with 4 matching spats.  He huddled.  He meowed.   He caterwauled.  He howled.  He pleaded for shelter, practically upon bended knee.

“Welcome, my little friend!”  Inside he hustled, suddenly slinking stealthily — prowling about the plaid couch’s warmth.  Pouncing down!  Leaping upon a wing chair!  Roaming free-range through-out the dining room, culminating in discovery of…the kitchen!  One bowl of Friskies later, I assigned him a cat crate, equipped with a small litter box, for the evening’s duration.

Lamps switched off, I approached the stairway anxious for my own warm bed, quilts, relaxation, sleep.  Whoops-a-daisy!  Once again, out-door lights flooded through the window, interrupting darkness. 

Déjà vu!  Retracing my footsteps and standing upon the threshold, I glimpsed a petite, lacey looking, bewhiskered, squatty little girl who skittered here and there, battling the colliding and inclement elements while avoiding my presence.

“Got food? OR milk?”  Positioning the bowls beneath a rustic, wooden bench, I gingerly scooped her into my arms. “Bait” succeeded effortlessly!

Two comfortably incarcerated kitty-cats later, I finally dozed. My waking husband seemed sympathetic upon viewing a couple of “mountain lions” front and center stage, adorning our living room — bright and early the next morning!

Whisked to our veterinarian’s clinic, satisfactorily passing blood-work tests, both visitors headed toward neuter/spay surgery.  Isolde’s pricey operation included removal of 6 embryonic marbles never to be alley-born under spring shrubbery — overpopulating the neighborhood.

Visiting the vet’s office over the week-end, how impressive to witness both patients’ bonding while healing, cuddling within their mutual cage, nestled together, legs all intertwined.

Legendary star-crossed lovers Tristan and Isolde rivaled King Arthur and Guinevere for star status…poetry, books, Broadway scripts, films and operas chronicle their classical romance’s endurance despite all odds.

Joyfully, this simpler and gentler version of that epic greets our hearts daily as this special, unique pair — dubbed “Trissie” and “Issie” —  continues embracing, sharing dinner, frolicking from room to room, enjoying television shows, listening to jazz cds, and cavorting in a warm and cozy house filled with love and appreciation, minute to minute. 

And For Seven Years Until This Present Day, They All Lived Happily Ever After!  =^..^= ❤ =^..^= ❤