Another December

Cat-Dad has told me that December can be a time of special difficulty for humans because of stress and unmet holiday expectations. For many, this month seemingly emphasizes the futility of their existence and the hopelessness that stretches out before them in the coming New Year. To this I certainly relate, since it was a December - two years ago tonight - when I was first brought to Cat-Dad's home, tired, sick, and without hope. I was resigned to my life being at its end. What reason was there to think otherwise? I was a kitten alone on the streets, trying my best to survive when misery was all I had ever known. The sickness in my lungs had so affected me that I no longer had the will to survive. Until that night, there was no one who would care, or even know, if I simply closed my eyes and never opened them again.

But Cat-Dad cared. And he was not about to let me die. Repeatedly, over those many months of my convalescence, he kept telling me that I was special. I was unique. Never before in all the world had there been another kitten just like me, with my DNA, with my personality. Never would there ever be someone like me again, and for that reason alone I must live. Cat-Dad spoke of personal destiny, and told me that even the smallest life has an important part to play. Such constant encouragement provided the strength to bring me back from the edge of the abyss.

I am happy now, with loving cat friends to care for, a very special human to be with, and even my very own blog! Surely, no cat could ask for more. Yet sometimes; rarely but sometimes, in the month of December, the memories of my former life creep in and suddenly I am overwhelmed with crushing sadness. I walk again in the Valley of the Shadow. Without warning, loneliness envelops me and for hours I feel physical pain in my spirit.

At those times I remember Cat-Dad's words - that I am special, and was placed on this earth for a specific reason. My former hardships and scars are a part of me that I accept. They are woven into the tapestry of my life and make me who I am. In reflective moments I embrace these, because they have brought me closer to my Cat-Dad's love.

If these thoughts and feelings of December resonate with you, dear reader, I encourage you to borrow from my experience. Let me carry your pain. Because even the smallest life has an important part to play; and under the fur, you and I are not so different.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Some people weave burlap into the fabric of our lives, some weave threads of gold. Both contribute to make the whole picture beautiful and unique.
- Author Unknown

With Malice Toward None

With the recent election of the 44th President of the United States, I've been reflecting on how authoritative figures of the past have viewed this characteristic of compassion, particularly as it pertains to us cats. Fortunately, one of Cat-Dad's interests is history, and his library which he makes freely available to us, contains several volumes.

Perhaps the most famous individual to lead our country was Abraham Lincoln, 16th President of the United States, and a great admirer of felines. His cat, Tabby, in March of 1861 was actually the first cat to occupy the White House. Tabby was joined by three other cats before the end of Lincoln's term (along with two dogs, a rabbit, three goats, and a Thanksgiving turkey whose life the President had spared).

Lincoln's greatest role came at a particularly difficult period of history, that of the American Civil War. Anyone who has studied this man will recognize the phrase from the Second Inaugural Address which characterizes his nature so well. The last sentence of that speech begins "With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right..."

Lincoln's "charity" was sorely being taxed during that time, yet history records a brief example of his compassion in the midst of overwhelming turmoil, which is not uncharacteristic for him. The following excerpt is taken from Carl Sandburg's Abraham Lincoln: The War Years (Volume IV, p146) and describes an incident that happened in late March of 1865, at the headquarters of General Ulysses S. Grant on the day Grant's army was to begin its final assault of the war. This discussion took place in Grant's telegraph hut barely three weeks after Lincoln had delivered his Second Inaugural Address, and three weeks before his untimely death at the hand of John Wilkes Booth.

The President's eyes roved the floor of the telegraph hut. They caught on three tiny kittens wandering, mewing as if lost. He picked up one and asked it, "Where is your mother?" Someone answered. "The mother is dead." And as he petted the little one: "Then she can't grieve as many a poor mother is grieving for her son lost in battle." Then, gathering the two others in his hands, he put them on his lap, stroked their fur and meditated, "Kitties, thank God you are cats, and can't understand this terrible strife that's going on." Then more practically and immediately to the kittens, according to Colonel Horace Porter, "Poor little creatures, don't cry; you will be taken good care of." And to Bowers, "Colonel, I hope you will see that these poor motherless waifs are given plenty of milk and treated kindly." Colonel Bowers promised he would see that the mess cook would do right by them. Several times later in the telegraph hut Horace Porter noticed Lincoln fondling the kittens. "He would wipe their eyes tenderly with his handkerchief, stroke their smooth coats, and listen to them purring in gratitude to him." A curious sight it was, thought Porter, "at an army headquarters upon the eve of a great military crisis in the nation's history, to see the hand which had affixed the signature to the Emancipation Proclamation and had signed the commissions... from the general-in-chief to the lowest lieutenant, tenderly caressing three stray kittens."

With malice toward none; with charity for all. All, to include even three orphaned kittens. What a lesson this is and what extraordinary insight into a man who changed the course of history because he believed with all his heart in doing what was right.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Acts of compassion are born and take shape in the privacy of your own conscience. No one can shape it for you.
- Rich DeVos

Click here to read the complete text of Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address.

One Man, One Bear, One Message

Cat-Dad recently brought to my attention the passing last month of an exceptional man, Thomas Doerflein, who worked at the Berlin Zoo in Berlin, Germany. What made him exceptional was he'd dedicated a significant portion of his life over the past 18 months to caring for an orphaned polar bear cub named Knut.

As the story of Knut and Thomas spread, they soon acquired an international following of people who marveled at this relationship between man and bear. The comments in multiple languages posted to Knut's Blog give testimony to the extent of his fans.

Why would one man care so much for an orphaned animal? Is it because polar bears inherently are attractive to humans? Or because they stand on the verge of extinction because of humans? Not so.

I believe inside every human is a latent desire to fulfill the command of stewardship of this earth and its resources, and to respect all life. Thomas Dorflein was just one man, and Knut was just one little bear. But together their example touched thousands of lives who, regardless of color, nationality or political views, are bounded together by this driving internal characteristic of compassion for another.

With love for all,

Noel

A Fundamental Way of Life

It was Christmas Eve of 2006 when a rescuer brought me to Cat-Dad's home, cold, starved, and sick. I'd been forced to make my way on the streets, but at five months old, was entirely too young to be out on my own. While much of my past remains vague, I will never forget how that night Cat-Dad held my body close to his to warm its sickly frame. He told me I was a beautiful Christmas angel fallen from the sky, and that certainly I must have come to him on a very special mission. He called me Noel, meaning "new birth", and promised that I would live.

Six months of daily medications and care were required for me to recover from that near fatal pneumonia and starvation, and to this day I still carry the signs - blindness in one eye; a chronic sneeze from scarring in my nasal passages; loss of teeth from the severe stomatitis. Even now at two years old, I weigh only five pounds, instead of ten like other adult females.

I recount my story as the opening of Project Compassion, a new feature for Cat-Dad Enterprises, to underscore the task that feline rescue/foster homes across this country - and indeed the world - have each accepted. These special humans (sometimes along with a feline helper) open their hearts and homes to helping cats and kittens like me because of their heightened sense of compassion, often turning their home into part medical clinic and part half-way house. As Head of the Division of Rescue Operations for Cat-Dad Enterprises, my first task will be to explore this characteristic of compassion in all its manifestations.

For this initial posting, I will end with the definition of the word according to Webster's Dictionary. "Compassion," he says, "is a sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with the desire to alleviate it." Since I came to this home, I have personally been the recipient of much compassion. Now, in choosing to devote my life to help alleviate the pain of others, I know that Christmas night I was reborn for this special mission. To me and to Cat-Dad both, the reason why I survived is clear.

I invite you all to join me in this journey of exploration.

With love for all,

Noel
-----
Compassion, in which all ethics must take root, can only attain its full breadth and depth if it embraces all living creatures and does not limit itself to mankind.
– Albert Schweitzer