It is cat day

Happy Cat Day

No really, it is St. Gertrude’s saint’s day.

St. Gertrude is the patron saint of cats and those who own them.

Yes, I know about the snakes and Ireland and Patrick have a do today.

But, CATS!!!!

Until I move in with Peter, I thought I was more a dog than a cat person. Most of the animals I cared for were dogs up to that point.

At the time the clowder consisted of Treat William and Stalin. I did not name these cats the girls did. Treat was one of those big cats that thought he was still kitten sized. Stalin was the ruler of the roost.

While I was stage managing ‘Tony and Tina’s Wedding” in Buffalo, NY, I was informed that I was the proud owner of a kitten named Vanilli. Vanilli’s brother Milli was Ariel’s kitten. This was for Hanukkah.

Milli and Vanilli may have come from the same litter, but they were almost opposite personalities. Vanilli was one of the most mellow cats I ever met. It was on Vanilli a very little Caroline learned how to pet a cat safely. She has now done so on three different continents. Millie was affectionate but only on his terms. As he got older he mellowed out.

Figaro was part of the cat distribution system (CDS). It will be fifteen years this October when Fig joined the clowder. There had been a very nasty nor ’eastern that blew through. While I was walking Caroline to the bus stop, I thought I heard a kitten mew. My neighbor Eric thought the same thing so, after the kids were on the bus, we tried to find where the meowing came from. No luck. I was out in the yard picking up branches and sticks. Two ladies who always seem to fast walk about the same time stopped and looked up a tree at the front of the property.

 “Did you know you have a kitten in your tree?” 

I confessed I did not and sure enough there was this wet and bedraggled kitten up the tree. I got a ladder and one of the women was kind enough to go up and get the kitten which she handed to me. I thanked them and they went on their was.

This poor scrap of meowing fur was shivering. I wrapped her in my shirt holding her close to my body. She seem to calm down and snuggled into me.

Here is Peter’s description after I knocked on the office door.

“I opened the door to a poor bedraggled wet one and then I saw the kitten.”

We both knew if we couldn’t get this kitten into a no kill shelter, we would have another member of the family.

Since I am currently looking at the sleeping cat named Figaro aka Boo, she stayed.

Boo is Caroline’s cat all the way. She imprinted on Caroline that first weekend when Caroline stayed in the kitchen with her. I gave her the rules no chasing the cat, pet the cat when she comes to you, and keep calm to help calm the cat. By the end of the weekend, they were inseparable.

Inky or Ink and Toner David aka Enkidu aka Do was our second CDS cat. We found her living under the bushes next to the porch. Poor thing was starving so we put out food and water for her. We kept moving the food and water closer to the front door. It took a while to catch her and she was a little wild cat. It was Jason at the Vet’s, who started scritching the black and white fireball who quickly stopped trying to get away and started purring.

This time was my turn for the weekend and the kitchen to try to calm this little scaredy cat. By Monday she was a little more civilized but still very wary of the other humans. She didn’t have any problems with the other cats. I knew it would take a while to get her to trust us. I’m the only that can pick her up and she and I have a morning ritual of pets and scritches before I go downstairs.

We adopted Mewlan aka Mew from the North Shore Animal League. She’s a black cat so they are careful about placement. This poor cat had been a feral that was caught and spayed. They didn’t notch her ear, they cut the entire top of the ear off.  She was caught again and was adopted out. The family return her because they thought she had brain damage. I have no idea what went on but I do know I got an arm full of very scared cat. She would freak when a shoe was dropped. She ran at the mere sight of a broom. There were other signs that this cat had been abused. Oh and the brain damage? Nada. Her back knees are double jointed and slip in and out of place giving her the drunk sailor walk at times. It did take me almost a year to be able to pet her without her running away. Now she sleeps at my hip and I have learned to present her with a fist rather than fingers to see if she wants pets. 

Phoebe was another shelter cat we adopted. She is very lively and friendly. Heck everyone is her friend and can pet her. She is also the one that gets into the most mischief. Sometimes she drags the others into her plots. She is a muted tortie so her color is quite interesting. She sleeps with me every night, and something has to be touching between us whether it is back to back or a paw on my leg. She is a bit of a nut job at times but we love her.

The current clowder is Fig, Inky, Mew, and Phoebe.

I am grateful for the cats and dogs in my life.