Noll Tells Tiggy's Tale

Brother Tiggy is the yin to my yang.

Where I was aggressive, focused and adventurous exploring beyond the hiding place chosen by our mother - and as a result, discovered - Tiggy reposed tranquil and diffused in a plastic pipe by the evergreen bushes.

When My Own’s daughter spied and vocalized my presence, My Own did not hesitate to snatch me up. She had been feeding our stray mother for several days. My Own had not correlated our mother’s ravenous hunger to her nursing state.

But my sunny yang, made her think. There had to be more kittens. When the snow fell, she left a box with a blanket for our mother. She checked it every day. It took her a week to befriend mother and fleetingly glimpse brother. Timid Tiggy’s yin made him recede into the drain pipe whenever My Own approached.

Meanwhile, I was being spoiled, nestled cozy and warm a few feet away.

My Own persisted. She coaxed. She cooed at our mother. She stayed with the food and talked while mother ate. All the while, My Own prayed for the drain pipe kitty to inch forward. It had taken five days of waiting.

I heard My Own’s approaching steps to my warm and cozy place crying “I have the orange one.” Our memories of one another still held. Joyfully, we fell into the other, a tangle of limbs and gaping mouths.

To this day, Tiggy sits on heated registers. He huddles on My Own’s lap at night. He snuggles up to Uncle Keaks. He monopolizes the sunlit southern exposure in the kitchen. When I look askance, My Own reminds me, “Tiggy has cold bones.”

So, my yang obliges his yin; uniting our life forces in the ebb and flow of our opposite natures.


corster said...

My baby Tigs!

Anonymous said...

We really enjoyed reading about how Tiggy got gotted:)