I know this is a food and wine blog but I must write of the pet named for the beverage I adored first.
Before I become nuts on cocktails.
Before I started obsessing on wine.
I LOVED (luv still even) coffee. Love in the way in which the mere inhalation of coffee beans or a cup of brew inspire comfort and excitement for the task at hand.
I never became the coffee expert.
But I loved it so I named a cat for it. Because he was black, bitter, and so is my coffee of choice.
Hence: Java the cat.
Maybe someday I’ll name a cat Mourvèdre but I am still in mourning for Java.
Java, my true love, stared at me from the depths of the Humane Society cage. His cranky meow convinced me that I WOULD be a stereotypical goth with a black cat to match my lipstick.
We said goodbye to him last Wednesday.
I loved him. I love him. He was my heart. He saved my life. At a time I could not care for anyone, myself included, he taught me to look outside myself.
He lived 17 happy cat years and I am grateful for that but mourn him yet.
My love Java.
Rest in peace sweet baby boy.