Ruth cried as Amber and T.C. scampered to greet her, Amber’s nails clicking like crazy on the hardwood floor. For a second, I feared they might jump on her, but they sat quivering at Ruth’s feet talking to her. Yes, talking. I’d heard the T.C. meow, murp, and chirp more frequently in the last few days, but nothing like she was doing for Ruth. Now she went through that repertoire and added more. Amber, who was normally the quieter of the two except for the occasional bark-aroo, voiced excited whines while wagging her whole body. My heart sank a little in my chest. “Hello, darlings, hello,” Ruth cooed. Clearly she wanted to pet them, but just as clearly had difficulty bending to reach them. “Come sit, Ruth,” I said as I cupped her elbow to guide her to a folding chair. The animals backed up to get out of the way of both her feet and her cane. I swore they understood that she needed more space to move than I did.
