On Cats
I LOVE CATS!
OK! So now you know who you're dealing with.
Yep! One of those eccentric be-cardiganned old cat ladies. Not some beautiful wind-swept kept-her-looks dog-lover strolling alluringly bare-footed along Coogee beach at twilight with her beloved Labrador frollicking in the shallows beside her. Nup! I'm the crazy old witch lady up on the hill who potters around her dilapidated old Addams' family house calling to cats who flow like a furry river around her wrinkled stocking feet.
Nah! Only kidding! I don't even have a cat. But I do love cats - ever since I was a little girl pretending to be a little boy (see picture above). I have had three cats (and one dwarf rabbit vcalled Mr Bunny). Their names were Smokey, a three legged Chinchilla, Katey Kittie, a grey tabby kitten who used to hug me around the neck and sleep in my bed snuggled up in the crook of my knees and then have to come up for air and sneeze in my face! And my dear Pussma. She was an abused, abandoned, half-feral little kitty who came to steal our dog's food and whose trust I painstakingly earned over a long time to the point where she would allow me to leave her asleep on the lounge and go to bed. She would come in the wee small hours of the morning and gently meow at my bedroom door and then wait patiently and trustingly while I opened the back door for her. She remained very much an outdoor cat and would only come in for me. I still dream about seeing her again - she was a great cat-person.
Yep, I see cats as people - and my equal, in their own little way. Certainly, I do not see myself as in any way more important than them. I love them to be my "familars" and to allow me into their trust. Pussma used to treat me variously as her kitten, her male mate, her female mate, her mother and a tree.
Since the time I was that dorky girl-in-a-boy's-body-child I have burned with love for cat people.
Sandra Haldeman Martz wrote a book called "When I am old I shall wear purple". When I am old I shall feed cats.
Anyway, since moving in with Alex here in the old Addams Family Home I have been attempting to curry favour with the neighbouring cats who use our wild windswept olive grove of a backyard as a sanctuary.
Yesterday, VICTORY! I managed to make friends with Junior, a pretty black and white boy (?). He is very affectionate and allows me to pat him and let me feed him some milk. (see picture above). He had just emerged as the victor (I think) of a mexican stand-off with "Ginger" who is mountain lion-coloured boy (?) who terrorizes any cat that has the temerity to enter our (his?) yard. Junior is a newcomer tho' and seems to have a certain self-possession. After Junior left the field of battle, "Ginger" returned to sun himself near the lemon tree. He lets me come and go as long as I don't try to approach him. So I'll leave it at that for now.
My youngest grandaughter is hell-bent on getting me a kitten to replace Pussma but I don't think there's room in this here pussy town for another fur totin' gun-slinger!
OK! So now you know who you're dealing with.
Yep! One of those eccentric be-cardiganned old cat ladies. Not some beautiful wind-swept kept-her-looks dog-lover strolling alluringly bare-footed along Coogee beach at twilight with her beloved Labrador frollicking in the shallows beside her. Nup! I'm the crazy old witch lady up on the hill who potters around her dilapidated old Addams' family house calling to cats who flow like a furry river around her wrinkled stocking feet.
Nah! Only kidding! I don't even have a cat. But I do love cats - ever since I was a little girl pretending to be a little boy (see picture above). I have had three cats (and one dwarf rabbit vcalled Mr Bunny). Their names were Smokey, a three legged Chinchilla, Katey Kittie, a grey tabby kitten who used to hug me around the neck and sleep in my bed snuggled up in the crook of my knees and then have to come up for air and sneeze in my face! And my dear Pussma. She was an abused, abandoned, half-feral little kitty who came to steal our dog's food and whose trust I painstakingly earned over a long time to the point where she would allow me to leave her asleep on the lounge and go to bed. She would come in the wee small hours of the morning and gently meow at my bedroom door and then wait patiently and trustingly while I opened the back door for her. She remained very much an outdoor cat and would only come in for me. I still dream about seeing her again - she was a great cat-person.
Yep, I see cats as people - and my equal, in their own little way. Certainly, I do not see myself as in any way more important than them. I love them to be my "familars" and to allow me into their trust. Pussma used to treat me variously as her kitten, her male mate, her female mate, her mother and a tree.
Since the time I was that dorky girl-in-a-boy's-body-child I have burned with love for cat people.
Sandra Haldeman Martz wrote a book called "When I am old I shall wear purple". When I am old I shall feed cats.
Anyway, since moving in with Alex here in the old Addams Family Home I have been attempting to curry favour with the neighbouring cats who use our wild windswept olive grove of a backyard as a sanctuary.
Yesterday, VICTORY! I managed to make friends with Junior, a pretty black and white boy (?). He is very affectionate and allows me to pat him and let me feed him some milk. (see picture above). He had just emerged as the victor (I think) of a mexican stand-off with "Ginger" who is mountain lion-coloured boy (?) who terrorizes any cat that has the temerity to enter our (his?) yard. Junior is a newcomer tho' and seems to have a certain self-possession. After Junior left the field of battle, "Ginger" returned to sun himself near the lemon tree. He lets me come and go as long as I don't try to approach him. So I'll leave it at that for now.
My youngest grandaughter is hell-bent on getting me a kitten to replace Pussma but I don't think there's room in this here pussy town for another fur totin' gun-slinger!
posted by Paula at
8:23 pm
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