I was all set to write a blog post for today about snowdrops, daffodils, tornado warnings, and other signs of spring. Then I got a call from the Humane Society that the cat Doug and I saw there last week was ready for adoption. They had picked her up as a stray, but now the requisite time had passed for anyone else to claim her. She was ours.

It’s been eight months since our wonderful Zerlina died, and at first I was too full of memories of her to accommodate another cat. But eventually I shifted from thinking I saw her everywhere from the corner of my eye, to realizing all those spaces were empty and needed a cat to fill them. Then we found signs of a mouse in the kitchen, and that sealed the deal.

So we brought her home. First thing in the door I showed her the litter box – cats like to know where it is – and then watched for what she’d do next. I had a few possible opera names picked out for her, depending on what I could learn of her personality. Some cats will hide; some will wail; some will try to run out the door. Our tabby girl was bold, adventurous, and affectionate. She especially liked to have Doug rub her head, and she did a walk-through of every room in the house. I named her Frasquita, after the gypsy girl who was Carmen’s fun-loving but more reasonable friend. Doug calls her Frassy.

So this is the story of a new beginning, after all – a new season, a new cat. She’s sleeping in Doug’s lap right now. They make a nice double portrait of what a good idea it is to love again.