She was sitting in the window, facing south, eyes closed as the sun rose--finally--from behind the hill. It was almost as if she was in meditation--or prayer.
Just as I snapped the picture, she turned to look at me.
She has moved through temporary names--Sally, Large Marge, the Big Tabby--before we settled on Fiona for our large kitty with a troubled past. She is learning to trust us. The fragility of her trust breaks my heart. She was a little striped kitten once, she was some one's kitty. Someone must have loved her once. But she showed up on our porch with a wound on her head and a timidity that didn't quite trust our goodwill. And no one seems to be missing her.
We are glad she is learning to trust our love.