Gracie My beloved Russian Blue.

Those yellow eyes. Her sleek gray fur that almost looks blue. Her lighter colored paws and underbelly — what a cat! We think she may be 10 years old or younger. The vet was not sure. She could be younger, he said.

I first enjoyed Gracie a year ago this past August, when I cat-sat her for my apartment manager, who was on vacation. During her first day with me, there was a visiting year-old child and Gracie played merrily with her and her mother.

Yes, I fell in love with Gracie: Her perky personality, all love and loving to be loved. Usually sociable, she sometimes turns reticent — maybe because of kittenhood trauma. But mostly, she’s out in the living room, preening herself or enjoying a cat treat.

When the three weeks of Gracie were over, I missed her, and the apartment manager said Gracie cried for a week.

In fact, I missed her all year. I would walk down the hall while taking my exercise near her apartment and call “Gracie! Oh Gracie!”

That was until this past August, when I once again had the joy of cat-sitting Gracie a week for her owner. Then, a funny thing happened. 

After relinquishing Gracie back to her owner, the manager suggested that I foster a cat of my own, and off we went to a pet store, our group of four.

I picked out a Russian Blue named Gray and the apartment manager chose another, rather rowdy Russian Blue she later named Ivy. And home we went.

Wait: What’s a Russian Blue? Thought to originate in Archangel, Northern Russia, the breed traveled to England in the late 1800s and emigrated to America in the early 1900’s.

They are “blue” because their luxurious gray fur is of such a hue that in certain light, it .looks almost blue in color. The paws and stomach fur is a lighter shade of gray/blue. Beautiful cats.

For nearly a week, my Gray remained under a bed and would come out only for food and to use her litter box. She had been feral, and it showed.

There were countless calls from everyone asking how Gray was doing until Friday evening, when a woman from the pet shop called to ask about her. I mentioned the cat’s self-isolation.

She replied that I was only fostering Gray, and she had a family that was interested in her, and that she would come Saturday morning to collect her. Sadly, I agreed. And Gray was gone the next day.

During the following week, I heard rumors that the apartment manager was going to give me Gracie. What good fortune! Gracie and the new Ivy did not get along on Gracie’s end.

And indeed, one fine evening, Gracie and I were reunited – permanently. It has been a while now, and I so enjoy Gracie. My Gracie!

The manager is dropping by tonight to say hello to Gracie and I know Gracie will be happy to see her former pet parent.

Last Sunday was St. Francis of Assisi Day at my church, in which many pets received blessings from the clergy. While Gracie did not attend to get blessed, she certainly is a blessing to me.

I have many additional names for her – Gracious Gracie, Gracie the Great, Princess, Queen of Cats – you get the idea.

Thus, Gracie goes in grace – and I am the happier for it. And oh yes – my happiness affects my daily writing. Doesn’t everything? If I’m happy, I produce more — I write more. I have inspiring companionship in Gracie, asleep at the foot of my writing table

Now it’s back to work on my optioned screenplay that I hope I’m elevating in quality after a recent rewrite class.

Go in grace.

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