Molly’s dining table was a single white shelf that once belonged to the Husband’s dad who used it in his office. The shelf was the perfect height for Missy Molly by Golly to enjoy her water and meals.
As you can see, Molly’s table is no longer white. Painted and slapped-happy glued with fabric scraps, snipped pictures and photos, and rose petals, it was.
Was I ever excited and impressed to see the rose petals stay in place when I set the table upright? The Husband asked if the colors will fade. We shall see.
Molly’s once dining table will become a plant shelf on the table, which was Molly’s dining table in her young and spry years. Jump.
I consider this end of the living room where the table sits as being Molly’s space. It was where she came out of her carrier the day we brought her home and where she let go of her last breath to soar into the Universe over a month ago. And, in between times, this well-lit, airy side of the living room was where the pinky-nosed (wilde) cat ate, napped, hung out, and did her delicate stuff.
The patio is right off this room, so we kept the door open on nice days for her to go in and out at her pleasure. She was pretty good about staying within the yard. Most times.
There were those fun years when she liked to perch on the roof of the shed near the fence, which was protected by the low hanging branches of an avocado tree on one side and an apple tree on the other. (Both trees grew from seeds that Mama saved from fruit she had eaten.)
Molly got up to roof by herself. First she hopped up into a rundown chicken coop that stood behind the shed, precariously making her way through the coop, moving around junk and chicken wire coated with spider webs. Once on top of the coop, she stepped onto a board beneath the eaves of the shed. How she got to the top of the shed from there, I have no idea.
I did know of one way. Thump! What was that? That was Molly jumping from the fence to the roof of the shed. We miss our Molly the pinky-nosed (wilde) Cat. ❤️