Thursday 21 February 2019

A Girl and her Cats

This is the story of a girl who was rescued by a cat.  Or, I should say more than one cat, as saving me has involved the lifework of more than one cat.

Drowning in life's tough luck is a difficult way to live every day.  And that is where the cat comes in.  Smudge came to me with a different name and a year of life lived elsewhere.  A year is a long time for a cat and it is hard to say what she had been through in that time.  But then I was 27 and that is a long time for a human and I had been through many things in that time.  Many recent events weighed heavily on me when I met Smudge.  Our lives may not have been perfect or perfectly happy, but in each other we were to find safety.

The first time I saw Smudge she was trying to observe as much of her world as possible and, if she could, to escape her small walled prison in the pet store.  I was drawn to her curiosity and she didn't seem to mind that I'd interrupted her great escape with a few strokes of her fur. 

Some people will tell you, from the facts as they see them, that I rescued Smudge.  The truth is that she rescued me.  When I met Smudge I had lost a life that I'd painstakingly built for myself.  Starting over from rock bottom is hard.  This time it felt like the hole I was in was the hopeless sort of deep.  But Smudge was full of life and energy and as she learned how to be an indoor/outdoor cat she brought me back to life as well.

Every night around dusk she demanded that I come outside and play with her.  Roughly 6pm was Smudge time.  We played hide and seek.  She would bound over to a particularly tall weed and "hide" behind it waiting for me to "stalk" her.  I would walk exaggeratedly slowly towards her and she would wait until I ambushed her with an exaggerated jump.  Then she would bound off to another location to "hide" and I would stalk her again.  We would play until it was too dark for me to see her anymore.

Smudge was not your typically distant and aloof cat.  She followed me around in a manner more reminiscent of a dog.  In Smudge I found a place to pour all of my darkest fears.  She would give me a sandpaper kiss in reassurance.  When the life I had built crumbled, I felt that all the dreams, and love and hopes I had for the world had no outlet anymore.  I gave them all to Smudge and she kept them safe for me while I clawed my way back to the surface.

I have no doubt that without the love and attention of this little rescued cat I wouldn't be much of a person.  I would have stayed rather stuck in that dark place.  The kind of dark place that turns one into an empty husk person.  During part of the time that she was with me I started a new job and met people that also helped bring me back to life and back into the world.

I lost Smudge a year and a half ago.  I was entirely lost without her.  I felt as if all the hopes and dreams and love I poured into her for safe keeping had vanished with her.  And this is not to say that my friend's haven't been there for me.  They have been my rock.  In fact two of them, with my own well being in mind, practically forced me to go searching for a new cat in January.  And that is how I ended up with Joe.  He has many names.  He is Jojen, Cat, the SuRB, Shredder, Tinysaur.  And many others.  Mostly I call him Cat with a particular inflection and affection.

Cat came to me due to an error in using Craigslist.  I was looking for a cat in the area, and either improperly used the feature to limit the search radius or Craigslist didn't work as it should have.  Either way, it led me to a posting about Joe the Cat.  He was up in the LA vicinity while I am down in the San Diego area, but whatever the cause I think I was meant to find him.  He needed a new home because he had at the age of six started fighting with his sister cat.  They'd had a traumatic experience with a cat-sitter and they no longer got along.

So, Cat needed a new home and his parents were devastated to have to give him up but hopeful he would do well and be loved in his new home with me.  And he is.  He eats my books, and important papers when unguarded, has chewed some of my photos and random things I could never have imagined a cat to be interested in.  But he sits with me while I work on projects and he likes to follow me through the yard like he's just another one of the dogs.  All three of them come with me and then plop down in the dirt to hang out when I stop to work or contemplate.  I couldn't love him more.

He is a little more independent than Smudge, and he is teaching me to live in the moment.  When it is time for napping or cuddling you just stay present there.  When it is time to be outside you stay present there.  When I go I know he's ok doing his own thing; but when I return I stay present with him where I am.  Smudge and I were more dependent on each other.

Cat is teaching me to be more reliant on my human friends.  He is teaching me that it is safe to be myself out in the world again.  I don't have to hide all my hopes and dreams and love with him.  I can take them out in the world and find my way.  For love will always be waiting for me when I return.  It is for the best.  A person cannot rely solely on the love of a cat and hide from the world forever.  Much as she may want to.  But his love is still vital to my sanity these days.

He is a character, though not in the same way Smudge was.  Smudge liked to, well, Smudge around on things.  She loved to lay on your legs draped over them like a panther.  Sometimes her attitude to draping and trees made her look a bit like a little bear.  She played hide and seek, used me as a ladder or totem pole on occasion and would give me rough little kisses.

Cat, the Shredder is twenty pounds and loves to eat things I had no idea cats would be interested in.  He has eaten, portions of photographs, newspapers, hardcover books, cheap paperbacks, newspapers, a voter's guide, and anything with bits of tape on it.  He loves lying upside down with one leg in the air so that you can check out his belly and his bits.  He is very definitely a man.  He has judged me for staying out, sleeping in, and using lotion.  And if you don't think you can tell when a cat is truly judging you, I doubt you've spent much time with cats.  Let me assure you I was being judged.

However different these cats have been in personality, they have been important to my long recovery from darkness.  Life, circumstances, bad luck, loss, and betrayal have been heavy burdens in my recent years and have cast a weighted darkness across my soul.  Without the tireless efforts of both cats I would still be very lost.

Since it is February, and it is the month when people often reflect upon love and occasionally the loss and lack of it, I thought it appropriate to muse on the way that sometimes the love I needed most came from the cats that taught me how to live again.  I do also love my friends and family but I would be a worse person, and a worse friend, and less capable of love if I had not had the privilege of meeting both Smudge and Joe the Cat.

So, this year I'm thankful for the love I've been shown by such fierce tiny creatures.  I'm going to honour the memory of one and the encouragement of the other by continuing to brave the world and fend off the darkness with hope and love.