Life of a Cat

We have always gotten our cats from a rescue organizations.   They have come from whatever life of distress that put them in a shelter to our home, which not to brag, but is a life extraordinaire.  The kind of life that I want to come back and live.

My cats all have had a story to tell because I don’t like kittens.   I love adult cats.   I am shelter’s dream because I am not attracted for even a few minutes of entertainment.  I all hear is screaming curtain climbers.

I had a calico cat that was five-years-old when I got her.   My “pseudo sister” who lived me at the time always told me that when she left she was taking my cat with her.   She was a masterful lover who quickly became entangled in your heart strings.     She was everyone’s friend and such a looker.

Joseph and Fred came within six months of each other.   Joseph was a big tough British Shorthair, who was savvy and smart.   He loved deep men’s voices and when the men would gather at our place to play cards.   Even the guys who claimed not to like cats could be found with a hand on his head while betting on a good hand.   What made them special is Fred was slow, not physically, but mentally he just didn’t get it.  (Pick your favorite saying about knives, elevators, or light bulbs).  Joseph was his protector, helper, and provided a lifetime of guidance.    Joseph always made sure Fred was properly groomed, pulling his head down and checking his ears.  The slept together and were best friends.

Mocha, a Maine Coon,  was a child’s pet for five years.   She endured the unconditional love of dress up, tea parties and being the playmate of a little girl.   Unfortunately a blended family brought a highly asthmatic boy and the cat had to go.  It broke the family’s heart and I hope that the boy became the wonderful friend, and protector an older brother can be.   Mocha became our  girl, moving with us across the country and back two times to five homes, never missing a beat.   She always preferred being petting on her stomach  and the perfect relaxing mode was laying on  her back with her arms straight out, leftovers from years of accepting love little girl style.    Mocha was a cat who never used her nails on anything in play, another life lesson she came to us with.  It was only in her twilight years that she would lay on her stomach, I think her bones were starting to protest.

Our current cat was 9 months old when we took her home from the shelter.   She had spent six of the coldest weeks of the winter on the streets of Butte America fending for herself.   Her owner turned her out to the elements when she was sent to the big house.   One look of at her young face told me she had years of hardship under her belt and she should come home with me.   Abby  loves my husband and will go out of her way to avoid me.   She has not forgiven women for her hardship.   She loves to watch birds through the window, but an open door holds NO attraction for her.     She lives in a house with toys bought just for her, though her preference is for the dog’s toys.   She is a groupie of my husband, hanging on him, following him, never getting enough attention from him, but never afraid to let him know she wants more. Her meals no longer require her young wits, but are provided twice a day. Her life is so good that we buy drugs (catnip) for her pleasure.

I think any cat person and many others who claim not to be cat people would agree. I am not sure I want to live the life my cats have lived before they found their way to our home, but once they got there they live a carefree, healthy life. Life is good.

Advertisements

5 comments on “Life of a Cat

  1. Those cats are very lucky to have found such a good home. My family has rescued several animals as well. Our dog would never dream of running away. She may not remember her past, but she knows she has a good life here.

  2. I never thought much about the baggage the come with. At least I am not to blame for their bad traits. Honestly they seem so grateful that the seem to have very few bad habits. On the other hand they definitely have some quirky personality traits. Those endear them to me and make me love them more.

  3. It’s funny, I was just thinking that must take a lot of patience to take in rescues that already have their personalities and habits set…but then I remembered how much patience it takes to have a kitten and worry about the personalities and habits they’re forming (and how much trouble they’re getting into). Suppose it equals out?

I'd love it if you let me know what you thought of this post.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s