London is the Cat's Meow

You can't visit London without visiting Samuel Johnson's house. Well, you can, but you shouldn't.

We actually didn't even go into the house because it wasn't open, however it ended up being a highlight due to the VERY important historical figure memorialized across from the house.

This figure is none other than Hodge, Samuel Johnson's cat, who must have been quite the guy to have been so loved. 

In The Life of Samuel Johnson, James Boswell wrote "I never shall forget the indulgence with which he treated Hodge, his cat: for whom he himself used to go out and buy oysters, lest the servants having that trouble should take a dislike to the poor creature" (294). 

"A very fine cat indeed"

I love how much Johnson loved his cat because I, too, have loved a cat that much. I got my first cat at the age of three and lost him when I was seventeen, and I loved that cat more than anything in the world. His name was Thomas and he was such a wonderful friend to grow up with. I think of Thomas more than I probably should.

Of course I love my dogs, but cats hold such a special place in my heart that our household feels incomplete without a cat. Luckily, exactly four days after returning home from this trip, my new kitty came home. (Unluckily, the day before *that* I tested positive for COVID, but that is thankfully old news. At least I had an isolation buddy!)

My new cat, who is still unnamed but previously went by Mr. Kitty, is three years old and came into my life after being abandoned by his previous owners. His adoption was unplanned and unexpected, but it must have been written in the stars because he is a perfect addition to the family. He is such a good, well-behaved kitty that I cannot even be mad when he steps on my face while I am sleeping. We have only known each other for about a week and I adore him already. 

He has a habit of walking around on my desk, especially when I am sitting at it. Many of these blog posts have been interrupted by a paw on the keyboard or by him sitting between me and the screen. I can only imagine that Hodge, or perhaps one of Johnson's other cats, interrupted his own writing in a similar fashion - paw-smudged ink or a friend at the desk. I imagine he never blamed them for a second, just as I am happy to have a writing buddy (though he is quite the critic). 

Me and my new best friend