cupcake is one year old!

Cupcake's first acknowledgment of my presence came when she was just a few days old. She was a tiny ball of fur, less than six ounces in weight, hanging over the edge of a box in our carport. She was so new that her eyes weren't yet open, her ears were folded over, and her tiny little claws were barely holding on to the box; but when I picked her up, she leaned back her head, opened her tiny, toothless mouth, and hissed at me. If the other two cats guessed she was spunky, they kept it to themselves.

For the first month of her life, I carried her in my sweatshirt pouch all day at work and fed her with a bottle of kitten formula every four hours. I worried when she didn't poop, cleaned up when she wet her bedding, and bathed her with a warm washcloth. In return, she helped ease my broken heart.

Here we are, a year later, and at once it feels like she's always been here and like she can't possibly be a year old. Shawn and I are so impressed my how high she can jump, how fast she can run, and by her thousand quirky habits. And we still marvel at how such a tiny little Cupcake has become such a big, strong girl. Happy Birthday, Cupcake!