My adult life has been enriched by the love of the pets who have lived with me.
Let me introduce my fury kiddos, past and present.
The first title was Mister Logan, named in honor of my directing mentor, Joshua Logan, until the veterinarian finally and professionally convinced me “he” was a “she.” The home from whom I’d acquired Logan said it was a boy. Several friends, upon a closer examination, insisted I had a female kitten. “Naw, ‘they’ just haven’t dropped yet.” Hmmm… very well. She’ll just be called Logan.
Logan was a combination of human and canine, knowing and executing commands better than most dogs, loved walking on a leash or straddling my shoulders when I roller bladed, and possessing more personality than many humans. She communicated and did so quite often. An open sound, such as a ‘yaw’ meant a positive response while a closed sound, ‘mee,’ was the negative.
Logan frequently pawed the speaker button on my telephone so she could answer. And, friends sometimes asked to have themselves removed from speed-dial because Logan would call and fill their answering machine tape with dramatic, chatty meows.
After moving to Shroyer Road in 2003, Logan, always an indoor cat, developed a fascination with the backyard, Bob’s yard, and the easement beside our home. It wasn’t long until she discovered The Fraze Pavilion down the street where she could join performers on stage or meander about the audience to accept snacks or laps from which she could watch the entertainment.
I could write a book on Logan. In fact, Mother always wanted me to do so. She loved and adored Logan, and loved witnessing or following her antics.
For 17.5 years, the ever wonderful girl was a part of my life. In fact, she was my first kid. From my writing spot on the deck, I can see her grave set with pavers, a bird bath pedestal topped with a mirrored ball.