I married a little later in life than most folks. I was 38. I was never someone who needed to be coupled. It was always nice, but I was also very happy being on my own. I had some of the best girlfriends ever, and I liked my alone time.
But when I met Mark, we just worked. My mother always told me that marriage was hard work and required a lot of sacrifice. So I always thought, "Why would I want that?" With Mark I don't feel like I had to make sacrifices. Okay, little ones...but not ones that changed who I was. Marriage to Mark is easy. We enjoy the same activities. We like almost all the same foods. We just fit each other like it's the most natural situation in the world.
And then there's The Big Bean. (Now don't get me wrong, we have two other kitties (JoJo and Zin) and a ferret (Oscar) that I love very much too, but getting Mark to hold all of them at once would have been a challenge). I found The Bean in a parking lot one day when Mark and I were out to do a long run. Mark had already taken off, but I was still fiddling with my gps watch. When I got out of the car, I heard a tiny little "meow". And out from under a bush came a tiny little orange kitten--maybe four weeks old. Well, I couldn't just leave her in a parking lot with cars coming in and out, so I started knocking on doors--asking people if she was theirs. Nobody claimed the little girl, so she came home with me. I half-hardheartedly tried to find her another home, but I knew she was mine pretty quick. I had lost my 18-year-old cat about a month and a half earlier, and I just couldn't help but think he sent The Bean to me because he knew we could help each other.
Little Bean
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