This is Lincoln. He is one year and 3 months old. He is as active as a Jelly Bean on steroids and i'm afraid i wont be able to hold him back from exploring the grounds of the earth. I am his mother and chosen to bring him up as a house cat. He cannot appreciate it right now but he will one day. He does love his bedroom and roaming the house; using tables as his personal lounging area and chairs to stretch on. Did i mention that i absolutely adore him? Well, i do. I love him to bits. I know that he does to. By the way he looks at me, craves my attention and cries when he knows only i am the one to give him what he wants. I sometimes wonder what i would do if anything happens to him, then i shift my thoughts and think that right now he is as alive and well as a fresh daisy. I ought to be a more positive person. But one can't help but often think such things, or allow such thoughts to have its desired fearing intention. Did i mention that when i say "Upies" He jumps onto my shoulder and lays there for me to carry him out the room? Well, he does. Such a clever kitty. I have to admit that sometimes i go a few hours not hearing him or seeing him then feel guilty for getting so caught up in whatever the latest thing that occupies my mind to do at that moment. I always find him though. Or get my personal search party to; that's what family is for right? My sweet Lincoln is an absolute legend. Having him in my life has altered my thinking and challenged me to be more responsible. After all i have had to think of food for another "thing" other than myself for a while. It took some getting used to. I am so grateful that it did to me what it was meant to. We both learning. Most importantly we both know what we mean to each other. If i lose him, i'm a terrible mother and he loses me, he is a rebellious teenager.
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