The Muffin Tree

Fifteen years ago my husband moved to Minnesota so we could begin our lives together. One of the few things he brought with him was an old cat named Muffin. After the first hour of being together, Muffin and I were bonded. I forgot she was his cat and not mine----I think Muffin forgot it too. By default my husband let go of any ownership of her as well. It was clear to all she and I were meant to be together.

A few years later, by some unusual circumstances, we given a June berry tree to plant in our front yard. The day we planted the tree, Muffin hobbled her nineteen-year-old body out to oversee the project. In Feng Shui fashion, my husband and I placed a couple of special meaningful objects in the hole while she watched. Since she seemed to want to take part in the proceedings, I brushed a bit of her fur and placed it in there as well. When we were done, Muffin wasted no time in blessing it in her own way, which entailed a lot of circling and trunk-rubbing. Thereafter we deemed it the Muffin tree. That was her last summer with us.

A few days ago the Muffin tree exploded with brilliant white flowers. Even though it’s been ten years, I remember the day we dedicated it to her as though it was yesterday. Each spring it’s as though she returns to remind us of the wonderful years we had together and the day we planted a very intentional tree. I always have to ask my husband what kind of tree it really is as I can’t remember its name, knowing it only as the Muffin tree. We have other cats now who are not nearly as interested in this story as I am. However, I will always be grateful for the gentle reminders of a special kitty.