Here's a sweet black cat. You might know by now that I enjoy painting black animals... and that includes black cats. I've always loved cats and especially black ones. I somehow skipped over that superstition of being wary of black cats (and dogs) and the number 13 and all that. One of my favorite cats was my black cat Jeebo, and even longer ago, my black cat Midnight, who was my 7th birthday present, as my mom drove me to the St Paul Humane Society and I got to pick a cat out for my very own, and I chose him because he was black, with one little white patch on his chest.
But this isn't Midnights' story! It is Merlin's!
Merlin’s story
When he first saw Merlin at the shelter, staring down with his golden eyes from the highest perch in the cat room, Bill knew that he was the one. Merlin was believed to be about six years old at the time, and he had been at the shelter the longest of all the cats there – for over two years – when Bill took him home. Bill always thought of Merlin as a sphinx, the keeper of ancient secrets, wise and mysterious, but also as loving and affectionate as could be. Over the years, Merlin came through illness and injury with true black cat toughness, a definite nine-lives kind of guy, until Bill lost him last summer. There will never be another quite like Merlin.
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