Bastet

Egyptian cat goddess, and black cat queen of my heart.

Meet Bastet. Though as any cat owner worth their salt knows, the name is only a formality, just as saying you’re the cat’s OWNER is a cosmic joke.

I rarely call her by her formal name. She is, in any given minute,

Baby Girl!

Fuzzy butt

Squeezy

Nutty nut

Google head

Another words, a creature of many personalities, moods that are at once mystifying and hilarious.

I adopted her two days shy of National Adopt a Black Cat Day. I didn’t know that at the time. I knew only that her face spoke to my heart, and I wanted a black cat. I wanted to give her a home.

She had recently successfully raised a litter of eight (the ninth hadn’t survived). All of her kittens had been adopted. But she had no home.

My home would be hers.

They let me spend time with her in a familiarization room, but I didn’t need the time. I knew.

After the paperwork and adoption fee, we were on our way home. She mewed pathetically the whole way, frightened of the unfamiliar carrier and the motion of the car. Then an unpleasant aroma signaled that she’d literally been scared shitless.

Ah, well. Welcome to pet ownership!

It has taken several months for her to feel comfortable with me, but now we’re inseparable. She loves to sleep between my feet, but she’s not a lap cat.

In fact, many of her behaviors are tailored ideally to my situation. She’s not a lap cat, and that works for me because I need my lap free for my iPad. Like now.

She also took right away to her scratching post, leaving my armchair alone. Mostly. The chair is a gift from a dear friend. I’d had to see it all torn up, shredded by razor sharp claws.

For the first few weeks, her night time shenanigans kept me up. I shut her out of my bedroom at night. She didn’t like that at first but adapted.

For a time.

Then she developed the habit of digging at the carpet where the door opens. I experimented by letting her come into the room at night. She started to adapt to my schedule.

Now she sleeps when I sleep, making that part of the 14+ hours each day that a cat requires to be catty.

We’ve achieved a beautiful and soothing relationship, Bastet and I. She does mostly anything she wants — which isn’t bad because she’s instinctively well-behaved — and I let her. Minimal fuss and mess, and it makes all the difference having another living soul in the house.