Today is the final day of Kyra’s womanhood. Tomorrow she goes under the knife, and we’ll pick her up on Saturday. We got her in May as a six-week old kitten. Now she’s six months old–a teenager, in people years.

I have to admit that although I was in favor of getting a kitten when we did, I wasn’t sure if we’d regret our decision later. We’d never had a pet before and I was worried about turning our house into pet-hair heaven. We picked her out on a Sunday night at a family’s home in Springville who had a whole litter they needed to give away. We liked Kyra best because she was grey, female, and the smallest. She also had beautiful eyes.

When we first brought her home, we knew nothing about kittens and had nothing to offer her–no food or toys or even a kitty litter box. The next day John and I made an early morning visit to Smith’s and stocked up on supplies we thought we’d need. That night we gave her a bath; she was little to begin with but seemed to almost disappear when wet.

Now she’s grown and ready for the next stage of her life, which won’t include bringing babies into the world.