Evolution of the New Cat

2petsIt seems hardly possible that our new cat has been here for just two months.   She has become a wonderful member of our family.

Most notable to us is that she is so young.    It seems so funny to say she is so young acting at 10 going on 11, but when your last one was over 20, ten is young.   She loves to play with crumpled tissue paper, watch the birds, and hunt bugs.

She is social, not that our last cat wasn’t but when you are over 20 for a cat your favorite life chore is sleeping.   Corabelle makes her rounds each day.   She spends part of each morning following the sunbeam around the living   room. When the sun finally moves from the south to the west window she heads to my office and to say “hi.”   Once my desk has been fully inspected she heads to her favorite hidey hole until my husband gets home from work.  Each evening she spends her evening sitting on laps while we read and stalking the bugs that are attracted by the lamps.

As important for her to find her place with us it was important for her to find her place with our rescue dog as well.   He is a bit of a pill.       I highly doubt she and Harley will ever be the same kind of friends that our first cat and dog, often sleeping together.   They are both middle aged and it is looking up.   Just the other day I found both the cat and the dog sleeping on the love seat at the same time.

Yep another rescue animal has settled in.

New Cat – New Name!!

 

intro-corabelleAs I write this we have now had the shelter cat just over two weeks.   During this time we have tried out all sorts of names trying to find one that she gives us the nod on.    Most shelters change their animal name on the records to protect everyone.   We were unsure if the name  used at the shelter was her name for the last 11 years or just the last five months.   No matter how often we used the shelter name she never responded.   We were not crazy about the shelter name either,  so we decided new home, new name.  Now naming a  pet sounds easy but it never is for us.   We pick names we think sound grand and perfect but somehow the animal has always let us know their name.   All this week our new cat has become more interested in us and being around us. Today  she came up and laid on me while I read.   She whispered in my ear you can call me Corabelle.   My brand-new 11-year-old shelter cat has been named. Everyone is pleased.

Adult Cat finds a New Home

2013-07-13-Lily-editThere is something about adult animals that go to a shelter that break my heart.    I know sometimes it is as the result of unforeseen and unmanageable circumstances and when those are the reasons it  pulls at my heart strings.  One of the  hardest reasons for a pet surrender is when a person dies or goes in to a long-term-care facility and their life’s companion can’t find a home short of the shelter.   Any cat who is ten or older and suddenly find themselves at a shelter, my mind wonders what they must think happened.   I read those stories and know that I could become one of those crazy pet owners who has too many animals.   I allow myself one cat and one dog.   That’s my limit based on time we give our pets and the economics of being a responsible pet owner.

We once again found ourselves catless and I wasn’t sure when we would add a cat back into our home.   You never are sure when the time will be right let go of your sadness and move on.   Then if you are like me and are drawn to the older cats, there are so many of them. How to know which one is yours based on that picture online and a visit at the cat room at the shelter?   Your tender heart grows sadder with each story.   Yet, you know that there is only one cat you can change the life of, which one is it?

I found what I thought was supposed to be our  cat last week.  She was nearly 11 years old, and had been turned in because they had a new baby and the husband did not want her around the baby.  She had been at the shelter since March.   I called the shelter and it turns out someone had already put in a potential adoption for her.   I knew destiny had found her a home and she wasn’t mine, even though I was sure she should be.    This week she was still there and when I check it turned out the first person did not pan out.    My gut was telling me go meet this cat.   So we headed off to the city to the shelter for a meet and greet. We came home with a new cat.

The transition period is going well.   We are still waiting for her to tell us what her name is suppose to be.   She has a safe space where the dog is not allowed.   She has wandered out of her space  and explored her surroundings last evening after our dog, Harley, headed to his crate for the night.   But it is going to take a little while for her to find her footing.   She lost the only home she knew, spent four months in the limbo of a shelter, and now moved into a house.   She has no idea what that means, but we have time and patience while she finds her footing in her forever home.

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.