Celeste came into my life when I was a gawky, weird 12 year old. Her mother had been wounded by a hunter shortly before giving birth to a heaping helping of kittens. Her mother passed, and my family hand-raised Celeste and her siblings.
When she was old enough, my mother had every intention of adopting her to a nice family, but I had other plans. Families would come to look at the kittens, and Celeste would mysteriously disappear to my room.
My mom left the house with Celeste one day, saying a family had agreed to adopt her. Minutes later, my mom returned. Since I was so upset, she had brought back a surprise for me, hidden in her coat pocket. Out of her pocket popped Celeste. Little did my mom know, she had just brought home my most loyal friend for the next two decades of my life.
She has spent 17 happy years on this earth and in my life, every second of which makes me grateful. She is currently coping with chronic renal failure and cancer in the lining of her lungs. She is spry, lively, and happy at the moment, and I am thankful for whatever amount of time she sees fit to share.
Celeste is a snuggly, gentle ball fluff. Dog people and cat people alike fall in love with this chill, demure little calico princess. Even as a kitten, her eyes have been full of intelligence and wonder.
Her favorite things are her window perch, her humans, and blankets fresh from the dryer.
