There is something to be said about cats and the enduring effect they have on your heart. It would be impossible to think of my life without having a cat in it. They have always been there. From being a small child and dressing them in my baby doll clothes while riding them around in my dolly carriage to the harrowing feeling in my gut when Kelty died in my arms last year, a cat, to me, has always been as present as air.
I came by it organically. My Momma was affectionately known as the CatLady when I was growing up. We always had a cat and it seems our house was also a drop off point for the unwanted ones as we always took them in. We had smart cats–Teedle who could open the door by placing her paws over the knob and moving it, Sunshine & her kitten Sunny who both used the bathroom on the toilet. We had mischievous cats–Frosty, a stray Maine Coon who liked to “comb” my brother’s curly hair. We had them all, all breeds, all shapes, all colors, all sizes. They all enchanted our lives in different ways. They all found their final resting place in my family’s back yard except for Sunny and we instead buried his collar that the nice man who found him hit on the road had brought us. We each always mumbled “No more, this is the last”, well, at least until the next one showed up.
As I grew up I remember thinking if I were to die I wanted to come back as one of my Momma’s cats as she took care of them the same way she took care of us–with all of the love and patience in the world. I also saw the same trait develop with both myself and my sister. Our animals became family. We sheltered and made them our own. We talked to them like they were children and included them in adult conversations. We made sure they were taken care of in the best way possible.
I met my husband in 2002. He had never been owned by a cat. I know, I, too, was shocked by this. We all know there are cat people and there are dog people, but there are just some people who miss so much by not having had the experience so during the halftime of an Alabama football game in 2003 we went out and adopted Kelty, a long haired tortie from an abandoned litter of nine. She adapted well and soon my husband was smitten. She was named after a camping gear brand since she was quite the adventurous one. She rode in the car on top of his head resting her paws on the bill of his baseball cap during trips. She was smart and loving. She made us a family of three. We adopted number 2 in 2006. Cassidy, a beautiful Tabby who attached herself to Jay from day one. She was very protective of him, perhaps because I was with Momma when she fell ill for three months, but she made sure I knew he was hers. In 2011 she fell victim to kidney disease and the vet suggested we put her down. We found another vet. We lived with daily IV bags and injections, but we had her with us, playful and vibrant for another year. When she came to the point of failing health we made the decision to have her put to sleep. We blessed her with holy water and slept on the floor with her throughout the night. Even Kelty licked her head as to say it would all be okay…Blessedly she passed in her sleep in the night.
Fast forward to 2015 and a move to the mountains with Kelty in tow as an only “child”. It seems it is easy to become so used to your life as is that when things change rapidly it is sometimes so hard for your heart to catch up. Sailor came to us on July 16 at 4 weeks old, abandoned at my sister’s seafood restaurant in the middle of a storm and found seeking shelter under the Captain statue on the back deck. She was tiny, fluffy and no short of love. Kelty found her as an annoying, hissable piece of fur, an intruder in her home. Toleration came four weeks later, but so did tragedy–we lost Kelty. I still cannot talk about how she passed, it was unnecessary. Time has taught me it was to open our house and hearts to all we have now. I think Cassidy needed her more in heaven.
Upon Kelty’s passing I knew we needed to find Sailor “a friend”. It was off to the local shelter and making the point of saying we weren’t just coming home with a cat. We needed a connection. We walked in and out of the cat room to no avail. We were about to leave when they took us to a room with the quarantined babies, some sick, some needing medication and some needing to be spade/neutered. And there he was–actually reaching out and grabbing my husband by the sleeve–a sleek, strong Mackerel Tabby kitten. The bond between Sailor and Lil’ Man took only 36 hours. They began to do everything in tandem–eating, playing, sleeping, even sharing the litter box at the same time. I felt God had placed them into our lives to help us heal.
Come November we had really settled into our home and were getting ready for the holidays. We all know as soon as you say settled things become unsettled. I was at the restaurant and watched as a Calico was darting between cars in the parking lot. You know what happened next–I was up the mountain, new kitty in tow with a mission to find her family. I posted with the shelters and after we had no response we had a new family member and a vet appointment where we were told she was pregnant! After passing the gestational period with no babies we figured we were given a wrong diagnosis so the holidays went as planned, glass ornaments remained boxed and we all settled in as what our normal would be. We had become a family of 5, three with paws, but still our family.
We rang in the new year with our new normal. Cat toys everywhere, cat paws on the counter (which makes me cringe) and teaching manners along with new tricks. Sailor became the quiet, docile one with a hidden bad streak. Lil’ Man learned to sit, fetch and play catch with an outspoken streak of menace. Calli got out of the house the week before she was scheduled to be spade. She came home with a smile.
I did the things my Momma did when we had kittens when I was little. I planted boxes with soft blankets throughout the house in closets. I placed a calendar on the fridge with her potential due dates. I watched her food intake and I could not help but laugh when my husband dubbed her “The Hindenburg”. When the time came she ignored all of my planning and decided to have her babies in a box a placed next to my desk as I worked on company spreadsheets. She wouldn’t let me leave her side. It seemed she was telling me since I had no children of my own (without paws) she wanted me to be able to experience the wonder with her. Calli delivered her kittens on April 20 during a labor lasting over 4 hours. The first was a dark orange Tabby, the second a Calico and the third a bobtailed blonde Tabby. Two hours later, another orange Tabby with a bobtail, one hour after that the last one arrived, a blonde Tabby with a stump tail. Momma and babies all healthy, myself and Jay in awe of the births and proud grandparents.
I can’t imagine a life without the “babies” as we call them and now, the additional 5 real babies downstairs. They each have brought us laughter and joy just as the ones who were here before them. They teach us that a little claw mark doesn’t ruin your day it just enhances texture. They show us it doesn’t take much space for your heart to be moved in the right direction. They remind us that taking a leap doesn’t always have to involve fear and that in the long run, you don’t have to be a dog or cat person. You just have to be able to love and make room in your heart.
Footnote: The children turn one on the 20th of April. All have wonderful homes! Two are here with us (1 & 3), the orange bobtail as well as a 2nd kitten our Calli fostered are with my sister, the calico, Tipper, is in Charleston with a dear friend & my insurance agent has the last, the stumped tail named Tupelo. Always room for one more cat!
There's something to be said...my Southern side of 50 