Pumpkin
“Named for pie. Crowned by lineage. She mothers the wild.”

🐾 Pumpkin: Matriarch of Fur and Flame

Scrollkeeper Notes: 

She came to us like a whisper—found outside (or so the youngest daughter claims). A calico kitten, beautiful and bold. They wanted to name her Harper. I said no. It was the holidays. I was thinking about pie. So I named her Pumpkin.

She was a sweetie. Then came the meows. The heat. The cycle. And then… Coco. Another stray, a little older. Hot chocolate to her pumpkin spice. Too young, both of them—but love doesn’t ask permission. On February 1st or 2nd, she had five kittens: three boys, two girls. They grew up in the house, glowing with her legacy.

But Pumpkin had plans. She figured out how to escape—through the kitchen window AC setup, squeezing past the “thingy” that connects it to the wall. She had another litter. They didn’t make it. Her third litter was born in the attic. Three wild ones, raised by the wind and watched by their older siblings.

Pumpkin is a good mom. Fierce. Clever. She teaches through presence. Her sons from the first litter help her raise the attic-born trio. She’s not just a cat. She’s a matriarch. A myth. A memory stitched into the sanctuary’s soul.

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